


The Wayward Boys

by brimstonegold, virtualpersonal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 16 year olds, Abuse, Angst, Captive Castiel, Dorms, Drama, Emo, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Sassy, Sastiel - Freeform, Sexytimes, Torture, Violence, Wing Kink, sam and castiel are teenagers, sometimes dark, sometimes funny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-04 23:44:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 59,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3096971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brimstonegold/pseuds/brimstonegold, https://archiveofourown.org/users/virtualpersonal/pseuds/virtualpersonal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life at the Salt Plains Ranch For Wayward Boys is harsh and grim for its students, who are at the mercy of their cruel and capricious teachers. After being transferred to the “school,” even the ever-rebellious Sam is close to breaking. In contrast, the long-suffering Castiel somehow still manages to see the bright side of even the darkest day. Through necessity, the unlikely pair bond in their struggle for survival.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [](http://tinypic.com?ref=k36oeg)   
> 
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Co-written with Brimstonegold

Sam felt claustrophobic. It had to do with the fact that the door handles had been removed. It was the first thing he’d noticed when he’d gotten into the vehicle with the tinted windows. The rough-looking driver who’d barked at him to get his ass inside didn’t help, either. 

The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. He was going from one ‘school’ to another. ‘Prison’ was a more accurate name for it. They’d been driving for hours and Sam hadn’t seen one pair of headlights illuminating the night. 

He wasn’t sad to see the last of his old school, but rumors were that the place he was transferring to was even more isolated and that the hunters who ran it were hardcore. Hardcore like his dad, like Dean. His eyes misted a little as he tried to hang on to memories that kept slipping from his mind. 

Pressing his forehead against the glass and finally seeing the lights from a distant property that had to be the school, he wondered how his dad could do this to him. He’d never been much trouble. He’d liked studying and had always done his school work. Okay, maybe he’d complained about all the moving they’d done, but that didn’t mean he’d wanted to be thrown into some school with strangers. Strangers who sometimes scared him as much as the demons and baddies they put down. Some of the teachers he’d had... Sam was almost ashamed at how badly he wished he could bring himself to kill them, or beat some of them senseless so they’d understand what it felt like to be on the other side.

Why was he thinking about his dad and brother anyway? They were as good as dead. He hadn’t seen them in years, and they didn’t even write anymore. That’s how much they cared about him.

Caught up in the heartaches of his youth, Sam hadn’t noticed they’d pulled into a parking lot. He had to wait until the driver got out and let him out of the back. As Sam got his duffel bags, he saw there was no fence around the school, unlike his previous school. His gaze met the driver’s, who shrugged.

“Ain’t no need. Where ya gonna go? It’s all just salt plains.”

Sam gave a nod. Of all the places they could be in, he was stuck in the salt plains of Utah.

*

“Rock! Get your ass up!” one of the teachers yelled into the dorm room lined with four sets of bunk beds.

Castiel’s eyes shot open and he jumped to his feet and stood at attention, wearing only his cotton boxers and the heavy metal anklets on his legs. “Yes, sir! I’m awake, sir!” Castiel said quickly. 

The soft sounds of breathing and snoring had stopped abruptly when the boys were pulled out of their varying states of sleep. No one said anything, each one of them simply glad it wasn’t they weren’t the one being yanked from their bed in the middle of the night. That was _never_ a good event.

“New kid arrived. Winchester. Go get him. He’s your responsibility,” the teacher snapped.

“Yes sir!” Castiel answered and quickly pulled on his sweats and a salt-streaked and very faded red t-shirt. His shoes hurt his feet, being a size too small for a while now, so he opted to just go barefoot as he often did when not in class or training.

He hurried out to the dark lobby at the entrance of the school and found a tall, gangly kid with a shaggy mane of brown hair sitting in one of the worn chairs, duffel bags beside him. He looked positively miserable.

Castiel cleared his throat. “You’re Winchester?” he asked softly, brushing back some of his dark bangs. At the boy’s nod, Castiel approached, studying the new arrival. “I’m Castiel Rock. You’ll be my bunkmate. Are you hungry or thirsty? I can get you a little snack, if you need one before bed. Or you can just stay up and I can show you around. Training starts in three hours. Breakfast isn’t for six.”

“Castle Rock?” For the first time in a couple days, Sam actually laughed. It was a soft laugh, but it felt good. Tiredly, he pulled himself out of the seat and looked his _bunkmate_ over. He noticed the guy dragging his feet and wondered if he’d injured himself. That happened a lot, though it wasn’t always during training. At least not at his old school in the Rockies.

Bending over, he grabbed his duffels. “Something to drink would be good. Driver was a dick and wouldn’t stop for dick,” he complained. “They got you up for this, didn’t they? Sorry,” he muttered, deciding he wouldn’t be much trouble so the guy could get back to sleep.

Castiel shrugged. “That’s okay. I was the one with the empty bunk. Jeff, my old bunkmate...he’s not here anymore. And it’s _Castiel_ , not Castle, though a lot of them call me Castle. It doesn’t really matter. I’ll answer to either. Water or juice?” he asked, motioning for the new arrival to follow him down a hall.

“Your parents had a sense of humor.” Sam couldn’t help grinning as he started to follow, his gaze dropping down as he noticed Castiel shuffle again. This time, he saw how the guy’s gray sweats bulged around his ankles and figured he was wearing leg braces.

Quickly, he lifted his gaze and pretended like he hadn’t noticed a thing. “They let you get to the juice after hours? I feel like I must be in some resort.” Course the stark, empty hallway and the dark kitchen they entered was more prison material than vacation. 

“The kitchen isn’t open after hours but new arrivals are giving slack for the first few days. It takes a little time to get used to the heat, so their bunkmates are allowed to get them extra liquids. If you come down with heat exhaustion, I’m the one who’ll get the punishment.” Cas walked into the kitchen and opened the door to a walk in refrigeration unit. “Pick your poison,” he said with a wave, enjoying the extra cool air. The school had AC, but it was rarely on high enough to help.

“How bad is it here?” Sam asked, his voice low, though no one was in sight. “I mean for real?”

“It’s okay, but then I’ve never been anywhere else. Hunter Nathan found and brought me here seven years ago. I was the only survivor of a demon attack. I don’t remember anything. Just that my name’s Castiel. I don’t even know my last name. Grab two extra waters. You’ll need them.”

“Rock, definitely Rock.” So the kid didn’t have asshole parents who sent him to this asshole school. If the hunters that had rescued him had a sense of humor, it couldn’t be all bad, right? “You want one too?” Sam asked, snagging the bottles with one hand and looking back over his shoulder at Castiel. 

With the light from the fridge bathing the guy, Sam couldn’t help noticing his crystal blue eyes. “If you weren’t human, you’d be a husky. I mean your spirit guide is probably a husky. Ah, never mind,” he muttered, telling himself it was too soon to make himself stick out like a weirdo.

Castiel shook his head. “I’m not allowed any. They keep real close track of supplies. We’re only allowed what we’re given.” He tilted his head. “I don’t understand. Husky is the way a voice can sound. How can a sound be a spirit guide?” he asked curiously.

“Huh? Oh...” Well the guy did have a pretty deep voice, not that Sam had noticed before. “Meant a Siberian Husky,” he said, slapping one of the bottles of water against Castiel’s chest. “It’s yours,” he said, giving him a look that said he meant it. It was just water, but in places like this, the smallest gestures could earn you friends.

Castiel was startled when Sam shoved one of the water bottles against him. Damn that felt so nice and cool. With a reluctant shake of his head, Castiel pushed it back toward Sam. “Thanks but...cameras,” he said, motioning to the corner of the refrigeration unit. 

Sam’s gaze shifted to the camera. “Shit...” Yeah, it was looking like they were really hardcore. 

“Siberian...” Cas was still puzzling it out, when it dawned on him. “Oh! A dog! They have pale blue eyes. I’ve seen pictures. Always thought they looked kind of eerie. Want some fruit? Or peanut butter and crackers?” He chewed on his lower lip, then asked, “Is Winchester your last name? Or your first?” Personal questions sometimes pushed people’s buttons. So far the guy hadn’t shown a bad attitude or temper, but you just never knew, so Castiel braced himself in case the new kid got violent. 

“Nah, don’t want anything. And it’s Sam, my name.” Letting the door of the fridge go, he almost immediately missed the cool air. Sensing Castiel’s stare, he looked over at him. “Something wrong?”

Castiel shook his head and led him out to the tables where chairs were stacked upside down on them. He put his hand on one of the crossbeams of the wooden chair legs. “No. Just...new students...can be a ‘crap shoot’ if they’re friendly or violent. This school has either new kids just being introduced to the life or older students like us and some of them...after all the years of...you know...aren’t all ‘there’ anymore. And a lot of times names are a sensitive thing. It can set off their defenses. Sorry if I’m a little paranoid. I’ve just been sucker punched a few too many times. So are you tired? Want to sleep? Or you want me to give you the tour? Or just want to sit and drink your water?”

“Man, they’ve got you trained. You’re like a perky tour guide at … what time is it?” Yawning, Sam looked at the clock on the distant wall, squinting because the lights beyond the kitchen, on the cafeteria side, weren’t on. “Dude it’s 3. Let’s hit the sack.”

Castiel gave a shrug. “I’m usually the one they wake up when new students arrive, whether I’ve got an empty bunk above me or not. There’s no point in getting upset about it. It wouldn’t change anything except get me in trouble.” He swallowed a little hard. He had complained exactly once. Never again after the punishment for that complaint. “Our room is this way,” he said and headed out the door.

“You’ll be assigned a locker in the hallway, in the P.E. room, and in the weapon’s area. You’ll be given a trunk and a closet for your things. Don’t mess with another student’s possessions. Punishment is fast and...painful. They’re really serious about being able to trust each other and watching each other’s backs. Don’t expect any privacy. Don’t back talk the teachers and trainers. Don’t ask questions. You have questions, don’t feel good or whatever, you ask your bunkmate, me, not them.” 

Castiel stopped in the hallway and touched Sam’s shoulder. “Don’t complain under your breath. Don’t complain, ever. Don’t be rebellious. They demand total respect and obedience without question. I’ve seen them punish someone just for just scowling at one of their orders. They don’t play games here. If you’re here, you’re...disposable.” 

The more he heard, the darker Sam’s already dark world got. “I got kicked out of the Rocky Mountain camp for attitude,” he admitted. “So cameras... everywhere? Even in sleeping quarters? Dude how do you...” Thinking better of finishing that thought, he trailed off. 

Castiel gave a nod. “There are cameras everywhere but many of them don’t actually work and most of them aren’t monitored unless something happens, and then the teachers go back and review the video. If anything goes missing or is broken, they will find out who did it. One way or the other...” 

“I got two more years. I can outlast them. These places are... they’re crap.” Sam answered. One day, he’d take them down, he’d made that promise to himself six years ago, the first time he’d gotten an ‘administrative beating’ after his _family_ had dropped him off at _camp._

Castiel began walking again, his voice remaining soft. “So you’re sixteen? I don’t know how old I am, but most of my classmates are sixteen, so I figure I probably am too. What’s it like? Out there?” 

“What do you mean, what’s it like? You can’t remember even that?” Sam knew Castiel had forgotten his name from whatever had happened in the demon attack. “You don’t know what it’s like outside?” The thought filled Sam with horror, even though, deep down, he wondered who had it better. Those who knew what they’d lost, or someone who had only known this... walls... rules and brutality?

Castiel was used to the look in Sam’s eyes, he’d seen it in the eyes of other students. It was sympathy or pity mixed with disbelief or horror. “It’s absolutely, totally blank before Hunter Nathan. I was...I was the one who’d killed everyone at the demon attack. The demon was in me. I don’t know for how long. I don’t know how many people I killed before...before Hunter Nathan saved me. After he exorcised the demon from me, I woke up in a motel, I think it was. They asked me questions and tried to find out who I am, what demon was in me, how and why it took me over. They talked to the police I guess but no one recognized me or reported me as missing and my fingerprints weren’t on file. When they couldn’t find anyone to hand me off to, Nathan brought me here. I don’t really remember the trip anymore though. So, yeah. Pretty much just know this place. When did you first attend a hunter school? Was it the Rocky Mountain camp? Do you know how your family died?”

“How long ago?” Sam asked, stopping in front of the doorway that lead to a dark room that had several bunk beds in it. He’d rather talk about someone else’s background than his own, any day. 

“Yeah. How old were you? Did a demon kill your family?” Castiel increased the distance between them just a fraction, sensing he’d upset Sam. “Never mind. You don’t have to tell me. I’m sorry. This is it. Our room. You’re on top,” he said waving toward bunk beds off to the left.

“No, I meant how long have _you_ been here.” Sam lowered his voice as they entered into the long, narrow room filled with four sets of bunk beds. He dropped his stuff next to the bed and looked up. “There’s not much to tell about my family. They dropped my ass off at one of these places and I haven’t heard from them since. I’d get it, if they were regular... if they were civs,” he said, thinking of the numbers of students who’d been abandoned by families who couldn’t deal with the attacks. “But John and Dean Winchester? Big shot hunters.”

He couldn’t help the bitterness that tinged his voice. Turning away, he started to strip his shirt off. 

“I told you. They found me seven years ago. Almost eight. Wait, your family are hunters? Like the trainers and teachers here?” Cas pulled off his red t-shirt and folded it up, then pushed down his sweats and sat on the edge of his bunk as he pulled them off. “So were you possessed? Or given demon blood as a kid?” Castiel scratched at the weighted anklets and re-situated them a little.

“Yeah. The blood thing. Guess that’s why they … “ Sam shrugged. “I hadn’t been possessed, not before they threw me into the system.” As he pushed his jeans down, he noticed something gleaming around Castiel’s calves. He was about to look away, thinking it was his leg braces, when he frowned. “Are those ankle cuffs? Weights? Why?”

Lips parted, he straightened, his gaze locking with Castiel’s and demanding an explanation.

Castiel’s gaze dropped to the anklets and jerked his hands away from them. “They’re weights. When I’m possessed, by no matter what type of demon, I always end up flying around and I...I’ve done it in my sleep and once...once when I got startled, I took to the air and just...hung there. They don’t want me, uh, flying away or something. Gets me out of running and doing pull ups,” Castiel said, refusing to meet Sam’s gaze. “Good night, Winchester. See you in a few hours.” Castiel laid down on the bed and pulled the thin sheet over him even though it was a little warm in the room.

Knowing a thing or two about self-loathing, Sam muttered a quick “sorry,” and climbed up the ladder to roll into his new bed. Unlike Castiel, he didn’t pull the sheets up over himself. “Goodnight Cas,” he whispered, staring at the dark ceiling. He could make out the cracks and peeling paint and knew full well it wasn’t Club Med that he was going to wake up to.

* * * 

The shrill bell pierced through Sam’s deep sleep. Groaning, he grabbed the pillow and pulled it over his face, clamping his hands over the parts of the pillow covering his ears and deadening the awful sound.

Before the bell started the second ring, Castiel was up and pulling on sweats and a t-shirt. Hearing Sam’s groan, Castiel reached up and plucked the pillow away from him. “Patience is not their forte. Get up unless you want all of us doing a double workout. Get up, get dressed in sweats or shorts, a t-shirt, and running shoes.”

Castiel tossed the pillow back onto Sam’s not-nearly-as-gangly-as-he- thought body, and he just stared at him for a split second. Feeling a slight flush run through him, he sat back down on the bed and pulled on socks and pulled on the shoes that hurt his feet. 

“‘Forte.’ Spend much time in the library?” Sam asked, forcing himself to sit up and running his hand through his tousled hair. “God... now I wish I’d slept in the car.”

“Oh look, fresh meat,” one of the other students in the room called out.

“Ha ha.” Letting out a breath, he gave the guys his name and twisted around so his legs hung off the bed. “They _were_ right. Getting to sleep till seven in the Rockies had been a luxury.” His eyes met Castiel’s and he noticed the guy was looking a little anxious. “I’m up, I’m up... just give me a sec.”

One of the other students looked at Castiel, at Sam, and then back at Castiel. “You got him Rockstar, or are we going to need to step in?”

Castiel gave a wan smile. “It’s good, Ollie. I got him.”

Ollie’s gaze returned to Sam. “Rockstar’s got a soft spot for people. He still cares. I don’t. You fuck up and get us in trouble--”

“I said I’ve got him!” Castiel snapped, stepping between the student and the bunk.

Ollie smirked and gave a shrug. “Just letting Winchester know the game, Cas. You saying you’ll take the beat down?”

Castiel nodded. “Yeah. Until I say otherwise.”

“You got it, Rockstar,” Ollie said, giving a final look at Sam before turning away.

Castiel looked up at Sam. “Come on, get dressed. When the next bell rings, we need to be headed to the gym for warm ups. There’s no arriving late though you’ll get cut a little slack for two or three days. If you don’t figure it out soon, though, then ‘natural selection’ starts to take place.”

“What. You’re saying people get killed?” Sam gave something between a huff and a laugh and dropped down off the bed. Rummaging through his stuff, he found a pair of blue sweats and pulled them on. Because it was getting short on him, he wore it slung a little low on his hips. 

“I’m saying the rest of the guys will do what it takes to get you in line,” Castiel said, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to another. “Someone does something wrong, everyone from his room suffers.” Castiel’s gaze dropped to the waistband of Sam’s sweats. He licked his lips, and glanced away. “C’mon, t-shirt and shoes, slowpoke. We’ll get you properly colored clothing after dinner tonight.” 

Pulling a white tee on, Sam grabbed his toothbrush. Seeing Castiel’s look he gave a slight shrug. “What? I’ll be quick,” he promised, practically running to the bathroom. There were two sinks and a toilet, but no shower. Kicking the door with his foot, Sam quickly used the head then brushed his teeth in no time. Spitting out the toothpaste and rinsing, he tugged the door open.

“Look at you all anxious,” he teased, once again thinking of a husky, this time of a playful little puppy waiting on its master to play. Yeah, like that was ‘normal-thinking.’ “Let’s go,” he nodded and followed Castiel out.

Castiel just shook his head. Bets were already being passed around about how soon Castiel would be getting a beat down because Winchester was being anal about shit.

As they walked, Castiel pointed out halls and rooms, and noted that only whispering was permitted in the halls. If it got too noisy, that privilege would get revoked for days or weeks. There was no running in the halls. No fighting was permitted. The rules spilled out of Castiel almost as if by rote. He fell silent when they reached the gymnasium. The exercise regime was ninety minutes long and then they could shower, eat breakfast, and start classes.

Sam was sure he was gonna forget the rules, many of which made no fucking sense. “Like who’s gonna hear and complain? The neighbors?” he huffed under his breath as he started to stretch.

Arms spread wide, he turned from side-to-side, his gaze sweeping over the teachers... hunters... walking around the edges of the gym. Once, knowing he was with a hunter would have put him at ease. Now, now he knew what they were capable of, and that you didn’t have to be a demon to get a taste of their violence.

“It’s all about discipline,” Castiel whispered to him.

“Rock! You got something to say?” one of the hunters yelled at him.

“Yes sir! Explaining rules to Winchester, the new arrival, sir!” Castiel said loudly.

“Including no talking during P.E.?” the man barked.

“Yes, sir!”

The hunter narrowed his eyes then gave a sharp nod. “Carry on, Rock.”

“Yes, sir!” Castiel said. Whispering once again to Sam, Castiel gave a soft huff as he stretched. “Like I said, discipline, and no talking or mumbling or cursing during workouts. They have good hearing and eagle eyes.”

“No talking for ninety minutes? That’s fucking ridic...” he trailed off as soon as he saw one of them eyeing him. “Six hundred ninety-five days and counting.” He’d be eighteen then, and he’d walk out of this place.

Hearing an “ouch!” he turned his head and frowned. All the much younger kids were to one side, and one of the hunters was riding one of the kids, cuffing him and calling him a ‘fatty.’ Demanding the kid give him push-ups.

Castiel’s gaze followed Sam’s. “Don’t think of interfering. Those are newbies. After they learn some discipline and get in shape, they’ll be sent to better schools, with threats of returning here if they don’t stay in line. They’re usually smart enough not to come back. The older kids,” Castiel nodded toward some middle school aged kids, “they’re discipline problems. They’re also used as bait frequently, so we practice a lot of exorcisms on them.”

“Guess you can put me down in that column. Discipline,” he muttered. He couldn’t help questioning the things he was told when they made no logical sense. It apparently undermined the authority of their teachers... the ‘screws,’ is what they were called behind their backs. He’d been moved from one school to the next one, four times, which made him wonder how many of these nightmares existed. He’d been caught trying to run away once, but he’d never done it again when he’d seen them break and crush the feet of the older guys he’d tried to escape with. 

In silence, Sam did what was expected, speaking low occasionally and asking Castiel questions. He rarely liked the answers. “I’d love to call the authorities on one of these places. There’s enough cuts and bruises on people to put them away for a long time.” His eyes narrowed as he focused on the particularly hateful screw still torturing that kid. 

“We’re on government land,” Castiel said quietly. “There’s no authority to call. The rangers know all about us.” He swore softly as his feet cramped from the too small shoes. “Running is next. The dorm room that makes the fastest averaged five miles gets extra time in the shower and at the end of the week, the best total scores for the week gets to watch a movie on Friday night and gets a treat like popcorn or pizza or ice cream and can invite other rooms to join them. The lowest scores get extra salt duties. Most make the five miles in twenty-five minutes, give or take some. I have to walk two and half miles by the time you guys get back. Stick with Cameron,” Castiel pointed out a small wiry boy with blond hair and brown eyes. “He’ll take over for me while you’re running and he can stick to your pace.” Castiel gave a discreet hand signal to the boy and then pointed at Sam. Cameron gave a thumbs up and nod, giving Sam a friendly smile.

“Don’t really need a babysitter.” Sam gave the kid a nod anyway. When he glanced at Castiel and saw the reproach in his eyes, he gave a shrug. It wasn’t a good idea to get close to anyone anyways. You needed to find people you could rely on, but friends... they were weaknesses. The screws could use them against you. 

“Well, you get one until I’m no longer held responsible for you,” Castiel said to him. “That’ll be anywhere from a few days to a few weeks, depending how much trouble you cause. Got it? You screw up, I’m the one punished.”

“That’s just fucked--” Seeing one of the screws marching toward him, Sam lowered his gaze so the guy couldn’t see the storm of anger brewing in his eyes. Bending over, he touched the ground and moved his body from side-to-side, hoping there wouldn’t be trouble.

“Winchester,” the hunter barked, “I can smell your attitude from across the gym. You got a problem with the rules? Course you do. That’s why you’re here. Big shot hunter family couldn’t manage you, keep you in line, so they gave you to us. You and that demon blood running through your veins.” The screw gripped Castiel’s shoulder firmly. “Rock, I thought you could handle this kid. If you can’t...”

“Yes sir, I can, sir,” Castiel said, paling.

The guy stared at Sam then at Castiel. He dug his fingers deeper into Castiel’s shoulder until Castiel winced.

“Big shot hunter, takes his jollies out on some kid with his feet shackled,” Sam shot back, staring unblinkingly at the hunter. “Come on, man... the guy didn’t do anything.” He didn’t allow any more concern to creep into his voice, that would be dumb, especially when he was trying to draw the fire off Castiel.

“Obviously didn’t do enough to teach you the order of things around here, or your place,” the hunter snarled. Without any real warning, the man punched Castiel hard enough in the face to put him on the ground.

“Sonova...” Anger blurred Sam’s mind. Stepping right in front of the hunter, he used both hands to shove the guy back and whipped his leg around so fast, the guy wasn’t ready and it slammed into his side. “Pick on someone who can fight back,” Sam spit out, arms raised defensively even as the screw came for him.

Castiel pulled himself to his feet even though he was still seeing stars and stepped between Sam and the hunter. “I messed up. It’s my fault!” Castiel said, taking a second punch to the face but standing his ground. “My responsibility,” Castiel said, spitting blood out of his mouth. 

He turned and grabbed Sam’s wrists. “Calm down, Sam. Please. It’s okay. Just calm...down...” Castiel said, his eyes begging the newcomer to get himself under control. He was surprised when the screw didn’t plant his fist in his kidneys.

Sam started to shake Castiel off, his anger momentarily directed at both the hunter and Castiel. What was the guy thinking? “Get off...” He tried again, taken aback by Castiel’s strength. Just as his eyes met Castiel’s, a strange tranquility settled over him. It was like something whispered in his head _everything will be alright._

But how could it? How could it be alright to watch them punch out a kid who had no fighting chance? Sam’s nostrils flared. He still wanted to make Cas release him and get the hell out of the way so he could take care of the screw. Sure, he’d lose and maybe end up in solitary, or worse, but it would be worth it. His chest heaved. He tried to break eye contact but he couldn’t.

“Okay.” He took a few hot breaths and finally nodded. “Okay.” Turning his face reluctantly to the screw, he gave a muttered, “M’sorry.” 

The screw’s eyes narrowed and his gaze flicked to the back of Castiel’s head for a moment before returning to Sam’s face. “Rock, be sure to teach him proper respect. And an apology won’t cut it if there’s a repeat offense.”

Castiel released Sam’s wrists and turned to face the man. “Yes, sir,” he said softly.

The screw focused his glare on Sam but didn’t say anything. Instead he turned and indicated for someone to blow the whistle for the students. 

Castiel gently nudged Sam towards Cameron. His face was already swelling. “Go on. Remember, the faster you run, the better for our dorm room.”

“Your face...” From the way Castiel stared back at him, it was clear there was no taking care of cuts, not at this place. Shame washed over Sam. It was his fault Cas had taken a beating. “I’m...” Sorry would sound too lame, especially since he hadn’t meant it when he’d said it to the screw.

Pressing his lips together, Sam just looked at Cas for a moment, nodded, then caught up with Cameron who was just leaving the gym. This time, the kid wasn’t looking quite as friendly as he had earlier.

One of the guys from their room punched Sam on the arm. Hard. “Good going, asshole.”

Sam didn’t bother to answer. He guessed the guy was right.

They assembled outside, in front of the school and then walked to a nearby trail. A whistle went off and everyone started to run. From what he understood, the trail would eventually lead back to the school. There was a fork down the ways where the younger kids and Castiel could take a shorter trail back to the school.

Sam heard a few threats from some of the screws, telling him he’d better watch his ass if he wanted to make it in here, that he wasn’t in Disneyland anymore. It was so damned frustrating. He wanted to fight back and he’d take what they dished out; it would make him feel better. But here... their ways were different. Here, they made others suffer for you, and Sam wasn’t sure how he could get over that hurdle.

Worse. He couldn’t guarantee it would never happen again. That’s just how he was. He’d take shit for a while and then it would all bubble up in him and he’d explode. His dad had given him away because of his back-talk, because he wouldn’t fall-in, like a good little soldier. 

As Sam stretched his legs and ran faster, he left quite a few of the other students behind, joining the leaders of the pack. He barely noticed them, or Cameron. His mind was in other places. But always, it returned to that damned screw who’d taken his anger out on Castiel.

Sam didn’t much care about getting extra popcorn or ice cream, or playing their damned game where you got points and demerits, trying to beat out the others. He might have hung back just not to be a part of the whole damned thing. But Castiel had wanted their room to get points. Maybe, maybe he could make it up to the guy by doing well. Hell, maybe he could show that jerkoff screw, too.

Once the thought took hold, it wouldn’t let go of Sam. He started to run with purpose, his eyes always forward on the trail, his strides growing longer and longer. Soon, he couldn’t hear the pounding of feet anywhere near him. He was alone. Alone in his mind, in his body, and in his determination to win this.

*

“That Winchester kid is nothing but trouble. We shouldn’t have accepted him,” Gordon growled.

“You know why they sent him and why we had to take him,” Nathan said, checking the video of the cameras they had set up on poles to track the progress of the students. “Well, look at who’s in the front of the pack,” Nathan murmured then clicked his tongue. “That attitude on his face. I wonder how many times Castiel is going to get an ass-whipping cause of that kid.”

“How many times do you want him to?” Gordon asked, cracking his knuckles.

“Too many times and Winchester will figure it doesn’t matter what he does, his bunkmate will pay for it anyhow. No, the kid needs to be handled--manipulated--carefully. Castiel will take the punishment when the kid steps too far over the line. Make sure that’s understood. Give Winchester some extra slack, though.”

“Enough to hang himself with?”

“Enough to hang Castiel with.” Nathan laughed darkly.

Gordon glanced at the video of the shorter trail and Castiel jogging with the younger kids. “You ever going to give Rock shoes that fit? He’s just pulling them off when he’s walking the two and a half miles.”

“If he earns them,” Nathan said and headed over to the end of the trail, pulling out the cooler with the Gatorade. He opened it and when the stone-faced Winchester kid arrived, he tossed the kid one and motioned for him to take a walk around the basketball court to cool down. 

Sam snatched the plastic bottle out of the air. If he was smirking at the disgruntled look on the faces of the screws, especially the one who had beaten Castiel, it wasn’t really intentional.

He doubled over for a moment, taking in deep breaths as he twisted the bottle open. Unless he was mistaken, he was the first one back. And if not first, he had to be up there, high enough that he’d pissed off the asshole who’d tossed him the drink, and the beater staring into the video screen and refusing to look at him. 

He lingered for a few moments, then headed off to the basketball area. It was early, but still damn hot. Now he understood why exercise came at dawn. 

Pulling his shirt off, he wiped his face and tried to dry his wet hair. As he lifted the plastic bottle up to drink down some more and hoped the ice chest next to the basket meant you could have as much as you needed. 

*

Castiel pulled off his shoes as soon as he rounded the first turn of the trail. He knew there were cameras of course, it was obvious, but they had never called him on it. So he took off his shoes and began a light jog. The ground was hard and hot. It sometimes got hot enough to burn, but it didn’t seem to bother Castiel all that much. He healed fairly fast anyhow.

He winced a little as he jostled his bruises. His face felt tight and his right eye was nearly swollen shut. At least he’d managed to get Sam to chill a little. Hopefully the tall kid could run, although with his luck? Sam would probably collapse by the end of mile one.

He made the trail faster than usual, even though his legs were protesting the speed. The anklets felt especially heavy and, not picking his feet up as high as he should, he nearly tripped a couple times, .

Sliding his shoes back on once he neared the school, he grimaced and half-limped the rest of the way to the finish line. His time would be pretty decent, hopefully making up for any shortfalls in Sam’s running time. 

He accepted the Gatorade Nathan gave him and then headed over to the basketball court where only a few of the students had returned so far. He was startled, and very pleased, to see Sam among them.

“How’d you do?” Castiel asked when he got close enough that he could whisper to Sam and still be heard.

“Well enough that it pissed them the hell off,” Sam grinned, practically forcing himself to ignore Castiel’s state, or he’d just get the guy into more trouble. He didn’t want that. “How about you, I mean with all the handicaps they’ve given you,” said, his gaze shifting meaningfully to the ankle weights that had to be chafing something bad to have Cas limping like that. “You pissing them off beating their time?”

Castiel laughed, but still kept his voice down. “Don’t gloat or they’ll find a reason to take you down a notch. I did better than normal. I thought I was going to have to pick up your slack. If you don’t run five miles normally, it’d take you a couple weeks to get up to speed so I pushed myself. It would be easier if my shoes fit but,” he gave a one-shouldered shrug, “I just take them off for most of the run. But if you made good time and I made good time then...well, we’ve all been waiting to see a show called ‘Transformers.’ Some of the guys said they used to watch it as a cartoon when they were kids and that they made a live action movie out of it. David’s already seen it but he said he’d watch it again. Maybe we could win the movie this Friday. That would be great,” he said wistfully.

“Back at the Rockies, we got to go into town once a month, to the movies. Why are you here, and not in some other school? This place is supposed to be for the _worst_ of us, and from what I’ve seen...” Sam tried to keep his face expressionless as he walked backwards to the ice chest and grabbed a couple drinks, then tossed one to Castiel.

Catching the drink, Castiel held it against his face where he’d been punched. “Hunter Nathan runs this school and since he’s the one who found me, he brought me here. He said there’s something different about me, too.” Pulling the bottle away, he opened it and downed about half of it before putting the lid back on it and holding it against his face again.

Seeing Cas apply the cool drink to his face, Sam looked away. “Is putting ice in a bottle to use it like an ice pack an infraction?” he asked, having already drained his second drink. He wouldn’t put it past them, the bunch of power drunk sadists...

Ollie broke into the conversation and staring right at Sam whispered, “If you don’t feel the pain, what’s the point of punishment?”

Castiel looked at Sam and nodded. “What he said. I can have an ice pack after classes. It’s okay. I just hate my eye being swollen shut.” Castiel didn’t bother to stretch out after his light jog, and instead watched the last stragglers arriving at the finish line.

“Dorm E, you get to use the green showers,” Hunter Nathan called out. “You are currently in the lead for movie night.”

Castiel grinned at Sam. “That’s us! Extra-long showers!”

“Whoopee doo.” Almost the moment the sarcastic response was out of his mouth, Sam regretted it. He lightly slapped Cas’ back, “I know, I know, in a couple of weeks, I’ll ‘get it.’”

“You have no idea,” Castiel assured him. “Still, you’re new, so remember to wash your hair and while rinsing it, wash your body. Then any extra time is bonus. They’re sticklers about being clean shaven too. Do that as soon as you get out and dry off.”

At the sound of the whistle, the students headed back quickly for the relative coolness of the school.


	2. Chapter 2

[Two nights later]

Bone tired, but unable to sleep, Sam tossed and turned in the bed. Every movement aggravated the painful welts on his back, reminding him that he hadn’t been able to stop himself from giving them the satisfaction of hearing him shout. The heavy belt had landed on him again and again until he’d have done anything to make it stop. 

And that was just his own injuries. 

His fist closed around some of the bedding as he thought of how bruised Castiel was. How much blood he’d lost. 

“Can’t sleep?” Castiel asked softly, having listened to Sam’s huffing and shifting, and occasional sharply indrawn breaths. He was laying on his stomach, his right eye completely swollen shut again, and his back twice as bad as Sam’s, literally, since he’d been belted two times for every one of Sam’s. He’d also taken fists to his gut, his thighs...yeah, he pretty much hurt everywhere.

“Whatta you care?” Sam bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut. “You must fucking hate me.”

“Nah. Now if you’re still getting me in trouble in a year, then you and I might have to have a real talk. Sam, I get this is new to you. There are a lot of rules, and you’re like...” Castiel chewed on his lip a minute, thinking of the movies he’d seen, “...the Hulk. Without the whole green fashion statement. You’re learning to control your temper and being all Batman rebellious against the rules. It’s okay. Really. But being pissed isn’t going to help. It’ll just tie you up in knots and make it worse. Let it go. Tomorrow’s a new day.”

Ollie gave a snort. “Rockstar doesn’t know how to hold a grudge, Gunner,” Ollie told Sam. They were still trying out nicknames for Sam and ‘Gunner’ was the top choice at the moment. 

“Knows a lot about superheroes though,” Sam muttered, still trying to figure out what made Castiel tick. “I don’t... I’m not getting in trouble on purpose or cause I’m rebellious or whatever. They’re... come on, that guy Gordon, he’s got a total hard on for me. I don’t have to even be looking at the bastard and he’s all over my case.”

“I know you’re not,” Castiel said. “Okay, so he’s got a...hard on...for you. Can you do anything to change it? No. So why are you getting worked up about it? He’ll get tired of messing with you at some point. Until then, you just have to try to stay on the straight and narrow and not give him any reason to even remotely nail you to the wall. As best as you can anyhow. If he wants to pound on you, he’s going to. Maybe he doesn’t like your family?”

“Even I don’t like my family.” A hard lump rose in Sam’s throat and he felt his eyes sting. They’d given him away and never once checked on him, he shouldn’t like them. Only an idiot would. “If he pounded on _them_ , I might give him kudos.”

Castiel was silent for a minute. “...Yeah, a lot of the guys hate their families for giving them to the hunters. But mine...never had the chance I guess. Not before I killed them. Even if I was possessed, it was still this body, still me. I...I don’t get family hate, but I accept it’s true. I would guess my family hated me as they died.”

There was a long silence as everyone mulled that over.

“I don’t think they hated you. I think they figured out it wasn’t really you,” Sam finally said. “You know how possession works, there’s nothing you can do to stop the evil that takes you over. Nothing. But it’s not _you_ doing it. Hell, how many people would rather die than see what the demon is doing with their body?” He knew that Cas knew everything he said was true, but that didn’t always make it better. 

“People don’t always realize. I mean, when people go nuts and just start shooting people...were they possessed or just freaking crazy?” Castiel said. “But thanks. I know what you’re saying. Just...when you get out of here, go talk to your family. Maybe there are things you don’t know about why they gave you up.” Castiel tried to convince everyone that they should try to talk to their families. Probably because it was something he’d never be able to do.

Sam gave a snort and rolled onto his side. “There’s nothing they could say that would take all this away. Nothing.” There was a ring of finality in his tone. 

“People make mistakes,” Castiel said. “They get lied to. And sometimes, they’re just assholes.”

The other boys in the room broke into laughter.

“Lots of assholes around here,” Sam agreed, also laughing. Somehow, he felt a little better, “G’nite,” he whispered to the others, his eyes closing even as they answered.

* * * 

It was Tuesday and Castiel and some of the other more _sensitive_ students knew it was going to happen. There was something in the air, something in the way the hunters talked to each other, the way the hunters were particularly watchful.

It was the last class of the day. Castiel was focused on the quiz, and so were all the students. That was probably how it did it. How they didn’t see it until it was too late. Castiel _felt_ it though and sucked his breath in at the same time Cameron did. Castiel turned in time to see Cameron’s eyes turn black and a smirk pull at his lips.

“Demon!” Castiel said, jumping from his chair and pointing at Cameron.

Sam turned so fast his papers and pencil rolled off the desk. Cameron had his arm out and a few desk chairs were already toppling over with students still sitting in them.

Pulling his desk open, Cas got a flask of holy water out, and like some of the others, tossed the water at Cameron. Cameron’s flesh steamed but he just laughed and more things started to fly around the room, furniture smashing into people as Cameron started walking towards the door.

Sam moved close to Castiel. “Do they have a moving Devil’s Trap here?” he asked.

“Yeah. That projector. I’ll get the lights,” Castiel said, dashing toward the back of the room and the second set of light switches. He stood ready to turn them off as he waited for Sam to get to the battery operated light projector. A slide was already in it, ready to be used.

“Go!” A force slammed into Sam’s chest, sending him sailing backwards into a wall. As the force started to choke him, he struggled to work the projector still in the grip of his hands.

“Useless.” 

Sam heard Gordon’s loud declaration before another student managed to work another projector, aiming it at the ceiling above Cameron, and capturing the demon.

It wasn’t enough that he fell to the ground, but Sam got Gordon’s boot in the gut. Fire burned in his eyes, but he kept his gaze lowered and counted to ten until Gordon moved away.

Castiel had turned off two of the three light switches. He saw Gordon kick Sam and, when Sam fell, Castiel sucked in his breath, expecting Sam to explode. When Sam didn’t, the air practically whooshed out of Castiel in his relief. Once Gordon stepped away, he hurried to Sam’s side.

“You okay?” 

“With jerks like that, who needs demons,” Sam huffed, holding his side as he got up. “Yeah... fine.” A bruised rib was nothing to complain about. “Is he going to take points away from our room for that?”

“Don’t worry about it. We’ll get points for me at the lights. Lose points for Cameron getting hijacked, gain points because I spotted it right away. Net will probably be a loss though. Since you were fighting a demon, you’re allowed to go to the doctor for treatment or to be checked over. Getting slammed into the wall, you could have had some damage done. Does it hurt to breathe?” Castiel asked, gently prodding at Sam’s side.

“Ow... hey... no.” Sam sounded a little breathless and kicked himself for it. “I’m fine,” he managed, his gaze dropping to Castiel’s hand, still too close to him. He pulled his tee shirt down. “We better get to the exorcism theater, before they take away points,” he muttered, hoping his flush wasn’t noticeable.

“Ow? ‘Ow’ means it hurts. Okay, but if it still hurts afterwards, I’m taking you to the doctor’s,” Castiel told him. He saw the slight pink to Sam’s cheeks and reached up and touched his forehead. “You have a fever?” Castiel asked worriedly. “Are you dehydrated? Have you been drinking enough water?”

“Fine... really...” Swallowing, Sam stepped back from the heat of Castiel’s touch. His eyes met Castiel’s and his heart did a flip flop in his chest. This was just ridiculous. He didn’t even like blue eyes. Or dark hair. Or exactly that combination. “No fever... or anything else,” he muttered. 

Castiel’s brow furrowed and he tilted his head. “You’re certainly not acting fine.” Giving a sigh, he waved Sam toward the hall. If Sam didn’t need to go to the doctor, then they would quickly be noticed as missing. It was their class that was invaded by the demon, hence, it was their responsibility to assist in the interrogation and expulsion of the demon. 

Avoiding Castiel’s gaze, Sam rushed into the hallway, practically running to catch up to the crowd... or to get away from a pair of disconcerting eyes and feelings stirring inside him that he just couldn’t deal with at the moment. It had been so easy to deny them, until now. Until his body had reacted to Castiel’s fingers brushing his side, right under his clothes. Yeah... not easy to deny anymore.

Castiel frowned. He didn’t understand why Sam was practically running from him. Maybe...maybe he’d done something wrong? Maybe Sam was pissed he’d gone for the lights, or maybe Sam had wanted to do the lights. He hadn’t meant to sound bossy. They were supposed to be working as a team. ...Maybe Sam didn’t want Castiel on his team.

Castiel shuffled his feet, in no great rush to join up with the class and hanging back. Normally he sat next to Sam, but this time, he sat by David, glancing once at Sam then focusing on the exorcism theater.

Sam rubbed his hands up and down his face, then ran one hand through his hair. He did _not_ need this... this sharp awareness of his bunkmate. It would make things awkward between them and, even if Cas was open to this type of thing, there were so many negative ramifications. If the screws got wind of it, there would be no end to the derisive jokes, and that was the best case scenario. He’d seen it too many times, even just close friendships leading to trouble for students, and when it was more or there was even just a rumor, suddenly you became fair game and you were used against one another even more.

His gaze slipped to the side, bouncing off Castiel’s uneasy stare. The fact that the guy was sitting so far away was both a relief and had Sam worried. If Cas was keeping away, it meant he must have felt something, must have figured it out. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Winchester!”

Sam’s face jerked up. Hunter Nathan had asked him something and he missed it. 

“Well?”

“Could you repeat the question?” Sam asked meekly, none of the usual fire in his eyes.

Pure disgust entered the man’s eyes and he shook his head. “You’re dead for this round, Winchester. Hollander?”

Ollie looked at Sam and gave a slight roll to his eyes. “I’d use my rosary and try to make holy wine since there’s no water available. Liquid is liquid and the church uses wine in some of their rituals. It ought to work.”

“Liquid is not liquid but yes wine would work, it can be made holy, but takes a different ritual. You’ll be learning that now so pay attention.” He shot a scathing glare at Sam, then began to go through the ritual to bless the wine which would then be poured down the demon’s throat in an effort to extract more names of children who were tainted, tainted like those in the room.

Hanging his head, Sam listened to the screw’s explanation. Course he’d known the answer, just not the question. Concentration, or lack of it, that was yet another good reason for hating the way he was feeling. He’d shake it off. He had to.

When Cameron started screaming, Sam’s head snapped up. He watched as one of the hunters poured the liquid down Cameron’s unwilling mouth, then called his bunkmate into the circle of the trap. 

“Hit the sonovabitch. Make him open his mouth,” Nathan shouted at Stan, cuffing him on the ear when the guy wasn’t rough enough.

And that there, it proved Sam’s point. 

Castiel watched the torture and interrogation of Cameron, trying to be dispassionate about it, but he wasn’t succeeding very well. He hated seeing the abuse done to Cameron’s body. The demon...well the demon deserved it, but once the demon was exorcised, it was Cameron who would suffer the pain of the punches and knives and burns. 

His gaze kept drifting to Sam as well. _I don’t understand. What did I do to make him hate me?_

 _Don’t be an idiot, it’s not you._ Sam’s eyes suddenly widened. It had to have been his imagination, it had to. He tore his eyes away from Castiel’s equally perplexed gaze and rocked back and forth a few times, staring at Cameron and asking himself what the hell that had been.

Castiel just stared at Sam, Cameron’s plight lost to him for the moment. He couldn’t have heard Sam in his head...could he have? He licked his lips and tentatively tried again. _Sam? Can you hear my thoughts?_

Reaching out to the back of the chair in front of him, Sam gripped it so tightly his knuckles whitened. It was his imagination. Because if it wasn’t, then one of them was possessed. He stared ahead, trying to keep his mind blank, ignoring the words and the voice in his head.

Castiel tried to figure out if Sam was reacting to what he was saying in his mind to him. Normally, Sam just sat there. But the way he was gripping the chair in front of him, he seemed all freaked out. What if Sam had heard him? If he had, then which one of them was doing the communicating? _Yeah, don’t be a jerkwad. It’s got to be me. They keep weights on my legs so I don’t go flying around! I’m the freak, not Sam. ...God, I hope he doesn’t tell the screws about this._

Sam’s instincts screamed at him to keep ignoring the voice in his head, to have no part in it. But he could sense Castiel’s agitation, his building fear of repercussions. _I’m not telling the screws shit._ Sam mentally huffed at the idea he’d give the bastards one more thing to make their lives miserable with. 

Between Cameron’s screams of pain, gusts of wind blowing in the room as the demon tried to move things, things that had been bolted down, and Cas’ voice in his head, Sam thought he was gonna go nuts. 

Castiel wasn’t sure whether to be relieved by Sam’s answer or not. Sam could hear his thoughts, but promised he wouldn’t say anything. He imagined building a wall in his mind so that Sam would only hear him if he wanted to be heard. He did _not_ want Sam overhearing all his thoughts and he wasn’t sure how much he was broadcasting. Could anyone else hear him? He focused his mind on David and began mentally whispering, _Ollie is staring at you. Turn and look. Look! He’s staring at you. Look at him! Look at him!_

He watched David, but David gave no indication at all that he heard Cas. That eased his mind a little, but then he glanced at Sam to see if Sam had overheard him trying to talk to David. Well, if he had, he wasn’t reacting, so probably not. Hopefully not.

He turned his attention back to Cameron, hating it as a cold iron knife was pulled through the flesh of his arm by Stan, whose hands were shaking as he demanded that the demon answer his question about other tainted kids. When he failed, Nathan started calling students down from the gallery to take their turns at interrogation.

By the time Sam was called down, the other students had gotten the name of the demon and its master, but not much else. The floor around the chair Cameron was tied too was stained with his blood. It was sickening. Sickening that they were doing this for practice, when they could easily exorcise the demon to hell. 

“C’mon Winchester, stop treating the bastard with kid gloves. THAT is a demon. It wants to kill you. To kill everyone and everything in this room. Force it to talk, or prove to us that John Winchester’s second born is a yella-livered sissy.

Sam’s disgust was eclipsed by the anger that flared inside him. Grabbing Cameron’s collar, he punched his face a few times, his blood splattering all over both of them. Then he straddled Cameron’s legs, leaned over him, and started pouring holy water over his fresh wounds.

As the demon screamed, Sam whispered words under his breath. His chin was tucked down, so it looked like he was concentrating on inflicting maximum damage with the holy water, but he was running through the exorcism ritual so fast, he prayed he wouldn’t trip over his words.

Castiel’s turn to torture the demon had not yet come. He had moved down closer, along with the others who were awaiting their turn. Cameron would be in the infirmary for a while after this. At least Cameron hadn’t hurt anyone. That would make it easier for him to deal with the possession. He wouldn’t have to lay in the infirmary going over and over what the demon did while it was in control.

A ripple in the air, like the feeling before lightning strikes, had of all his fine hairs standing up on end, and drew Castiel’s attention. Sam was--oh, crap, Sam was exorcising the demon! He could hear it, almost as if Sam was whispering it in his ear. He winced when Sam mangled a line and he quickly mentally whispered the correction.

Surprised, Sam glanced up, then quickly back down. He practically shoved the neck of the bottle of holy water down Cameron’s mouth, chanting faster and putting everything he could into it. Cameron’s chair jumped off the ground, almost sending Sam tumbling.

“Get the sonovabitch under control.”

 _Oh I will._ Thought Sam as he neared the end of the ritual.

The demon inside Cameron screamed. “No... I’ll talk... I’ll talk...”

Black smoke erupted from Cameron’s throat, rising quickly up to the ceiling and dissipating. 

“What the...?” Glancing at those around him wide-eyed and looking as surprised as everyone else, Sam moved back from Cameron, whose head was hanging down on his chest. Immediately, he put two fingers over the pulse at the side of Cameron’s throat and let out a breath. Dropping down next to him, he pulled a knife from his belt and started to cut him Cameron free of the chair. 

Gordon strode forward and grabbed Sam by the collar, yanking him away from Cameron. “What the hell did you do?” He kicked Sam sharply in the ribs. “You exorcised him, you idiot. You got him willing to talk, and then you fucking exorcised him before getting the information!”

“Gordon!” Nathan said sharply. “The boy appeared startled. Stand down.”

“But--!”

“ _Stand down!_ ” Nathan roared, then focused a severe gaze on the students. “Who did it? Who exorcised the demon?”

Gordon had placed the kick in the same exact spot Sam had been injured earlier. The pain shooting through Sam had him seeing white lights. 

Blindly, he stumbled away. Pain and anger and other emotions roiled inside him. He could wield that knife in his hand, he could end Gordon, or he’d die in the process. Who the fuck cared? What came after had to be better than this shit, day in and day out. It had to.

Castiel moved to Sam’s side almost too fast for a human. “Sam, it’s okay. Take slow shallow breaths,” Castiel soothed, disarming Sam effortlessly and tucking the knife into his belt. “Hunter Nathan, Sam was injured earlier when Cameron was first possessed. He obviously needs to be evaluated. Request permission to take Sam to the infirmary.”

“Sit him down. He can wait until this is resolved.” Turning his attention back to the students, Nathan demanded again, “Who did it? Cameron won’t be taken to the infirmary, you won’t eat or drink, not until whoever exorcised that demon admits to it.”

Through bleary eyes, Sam stared long and hard at the knife Cas had taken away, both trying to process how it had happened, and whether he wanted it back in order to put an end to the day’s sadistic activities. It was only too clear the screws weren’t through with them yet. His chest heaved, his nostrils flaring slightly as he balled his fists at his side.

The students looked at each other, waiting for someone to confess. The seconds ticked by until a minute had come and gone. Then a second one.

“Oh for God’s sake, fine I’ll take the blame,” Castiel said. “Just let Sam and Cameron go to the doctor.”

Nathan turned and glared at Castiel. “Did you do it?”

“I said I did, didn’t I?” Castiel snapped back. “If someone has to pay, fine, I’ll pay. Just...just get Cameron to the infirmary before he loses anymore blood. And have Sam’s ribs looked at.”

Nathan shook his head and looked at the other students. “You remember this when you’re eating dinner tonight and you hear his cries. Gordon, take Castiel for punishment. The rest of you useless pieces of shit get out of my sight!”

“What? No!” Stepping in front of Castiel and putting his arm out to bar him from moving past, Sam protested. “I did it, okay? Gordon’s right, I fucking did it.” He saw the disbelief in Nathan’s eyes, but he was sure Nathan knew Castiel hadn’t done it. So long as someone took the blame, the guy would be satisfied. Only Sam couldn’t let anyone take physical punishment for him, not if he had a choice in the matter. 

“He’d had enough, so I did it,” he nodded. _Don’t fucking open your mouth again, or I’ll be the one to kill you, Cas._

Other students began declaring they had been the ones to do the deed until everyone in the class said they had. 

Nathan waved them all to silence. “Et tu Spartacus?” he muttered, but gave a nod. “And that, gentlemen, is called covering your partners’ asses. Curfew is extended a half hour and a movie of Castiel’s choice will be played. Make no mistake, I will not tolerate a repeat of this or every last one of you will be whipped to within an inch of your life and the first one to claim they did it _will_ end up in the box.” 

Castiel looked at Sam. _Holy crap. Never seen that happen before._

 _He’s afraid. Afraid of mutiny. He’s gonna go inside with his pals, and when they come back, it’s gonna be worse._ Sam suddenly glared at Cas. _And get the hell out of my head._

 _Hey, this crap is as new to me as it is to you! I don’t know how to control it yet. So what movie you wanna see?_ He grinned at Sam. “Come on, let’s get you to the infirmary and get your ribs wrapped.”

* * * 

When they got back to their room, Sam had a useless bandage around his ribs. Well, maybe it did help him breathe easier, but his ribs still hurt like a sonovabitch. They’d given him a few pills for the pain, which was unusual. He’d save the pills, for when something worse happened, and he knew it would.

He hadn’t put his shirt back on and was just about to strip his pants off when Castiel sat down on the lower bed and removed his sweats. Frowning at the chafe marks where the ankle bracelets had rubbed against Castiel’s legs, Sam dug into his pocket. By the time he pulled out the lidocaine he’d nicked from infirmary, Castiel had his shoes off and Sam saw the blisters on his feet. His frown deepened and he had a thought about ripping Nathan’s head off, but he kept it to himself.

Very slowly, he squatted down in front of Castiel. “You can thank me later,” he grinned, flashing the little salve tin, and then dipping his finger in and slathering some on Castiel’s calves, right under the metal. 

“It’s okay, I’m used to...shit, that feels good,” Castiel said, his protest fading. He leaned back, working on stretching his toes out, staring at Sam’s dark hair and muscular shoulders. The light shone off Sam’s hair, making some of it almost sparkle. Without really thinking, Castiel ran his fingers through the silken strands. “Yeah, that’s...that helps. Did you think of a good movie to ask for? And do you think that stuff will work on my blisters?”

“Probably. But I’m not going near your toes,” Sam laughed and looked up, his brows rising when he glanced at Cas’ arm. 

Castiel suddenly realized what he was doing and hastily pulled his hand away from Sam’s hair. “Sorry...it just looks so...soft. And there’s nothing wrong with my toes. No eww factor, I promise! So, movie recommendations?”

“How about Cinderella? Since you’re apparently trying to make your foot fit into this not so glassy slipper. Shaking his head at the sneakers, Sam slathered some salve onto Castiel’s other ankle. “Should make you numb right away. You can have the rest,” he offered. “Just hide it well.”

“Cinderella? What’s Cinderella? Glassy slipper? Huh?” Castiel said, giving him a completely baffled look. He accepted the small tin and gave a smile in thanks.

Gripping the edge of the bed, Sam rose with a grimace. “How about The Fifth Element. Or wait, Starship Troopers! Lots of killing things in that. I saw a trailer for it,” he said, unzipping his pants. 

“Starship Troopers? Okay, I’ll ask for that,” Castiel said. It sounded kinda cool. The other one, the Fifth Element sounded kind of like magic or something, which might be good, but the rest of the guys would be happier with the killing of shit. “The other guys, they remember movies they saw or heard about. I don’t, so I always have to fish for suggestions. So what is Cinderella?”

“It’s just a--”

Ollie and the others walked in bragging about the brownies and milk that everyone who’d gone to the infirmary had missed. 

“And you didn’t sneak some for us? Jerk,” Sam shot him a look, shucked his pants and climbed up the ladder, grimacing slightly. “I think they should let me sleep in.”

“Yeah, Ollie, did you get us brownies? If not, I guess I’ll be asking for Cinderella for movie night,” Castiel said. If nothing else, glassy slippers sounded kind of girly and he figured it would irritate Ollie who hated what he called chick flicks.

“Bullshit, Rockstar, I know you’ll go for one of the Star Wars movies or Indiana Jones or something. You always suggest those. I think you get a hard on for Harrison Ford,” Ollie said as he stripped.

One of the other boys slipped over to Castiel’s bedside and handed him something wrapped in a napkin. “We could only snitch one. You’ll have to share.”

Castiel grinned. “Thanks.” He unwrapped the brownie and broke it in half, and handed the other still wrapped half up to Sam. “Take it.”

“Is it worth the pain?” Sam groaned, but reached for it anyway. As he closed his hand around the napkin, his fingers brushed against Castiel’s. Once again, there was that strange flip-flopping of his heart and he mentally cursed at himself. “Mmm yeah, it’s definitely worth it. We owe you one,” he said to Stan, who’d handed it over to them. 

Castiel’s “mmmm” echoed Sam’s. He loved chocolate, and brownies were one of his favorite treats. “Okay. Then how about Starship Troopers?”

There were some quiet cheers and whoops, though half the boys had no idea what the movie was about any more than Castiel did. That was okay, though.

Castiel skipped brushing his teeth because he wanted to savor the taste of the brownie as long as he could. After hiding the tin of Novocain, he snuggled under the sheets and closed his eyes, his mind drifting back to the electricity he’d felt race through his body at Sam’s touch.


	3. Chapter 3

When the morning bell rang, Sam groaned. As always, he dragged the pillow over his face and squeezed it over his ears. Not that his roommates would allow him to ignore it for long.

The room filled with the usual sounds of people rushing to the bathroom, running back, and getting dressed. 

Then there was the sound of cursing. Loud cursing. Now that was unusual.

“What the fuck?”

“Who did this? Let me see yours. Holy shit, yours too!”

“Mine too.”

“It’s everyone’s!”

Similar exclamations could be heard from across the hall.

“Shut up, all of you,” Sam groaned, now awake enough to feel the pain in his ribs.

Castiel blinked a few times as he tried to sort out the cursing and who was doing it and why. He saw one of the boys hold up his sneakers, staring at the toes of the shoes. The toes had been cut out. Looking around, he saw that the toes had been cut out of everyone’s sneakers. In the room across the hall, too, and from the sounds of it, in the other dorm rooms as well.

He looked down at his own shoes. Yep. No toes in them. He wiggled his blistered toes, looked at the sneakers again, and then looked up at the bottom side of the bunk. “Sam, you awake? Our shoes have been...vandalized.”

“What kinda graffiti?” Sam asked, a smile curving his lips, though no one could see. 

“No graffiti. The toes have been cut out.” He knew the screws would be pissed. And he figured there was a decent chance Sam had been behind it. After all, who else had shoes too small other than Castiel? And Sam had seen the blisters. And Sam was a rebellious shit. “Whoever did it, I sure hope they don’t get caught or they will be in so much trouble, I can’t even imagine.”

Sam slowly sat up and looked around, then dropped his gaze to the shoe Cas was holding and snorted. “I think you’re turning into a toe exhibitionist.” 

Slowly making his way down the ladder, he swept his foot under the bed and dragged his own sneakers out. “Yup... useless. Is there a Nike store in the neighborhood?”

Castiel shook his head. “And they don’t have that many shoes in the supply room. They’ll have to get some delivered. And we can’t run barefoot. Well, I mean, I could, but you guys won’t be able to make it as easily and it would be pretty hard on your feet to do it.”

Ollie gave a snort. “Since when has that stopped them? It’s going to suck. You know we’ll have to run, just like every morning.

“We could use duct tape,” Castiel suggested. “Put it across the toes. It would work for walking around school at least...but man, that’s a lot of duct tape...”

Yawning, Sam went to the chest of drawers and pulled out a pair of shorts. “Might be fun running barefoot. It could take us all day to get around the trail and we’d have shorter classes. “Which of the screws will go to buy more?” he wondered out loud, hoping it was Gordon.

“Hard to tell,” Castiel said. “Whoever Nathan decides on. I mean, you know, getting out of the school and getting to go into town, that’ll be like a mini-vacation. Course, they have to get all of our shoe sizes, too. We probably won’t get new shoes until at least tomorrow afternoon, or later.”

Castiel pulled on some clothes, then quickly brushed his teeth. He tried to put on his ruined shoes, but he saw even the shoestrings had been cut. Like everyone else, he resigned himself to carrying them. “I wonder if the screws did this. Maybe they wanted to teach us some sort of lesson?” he mused.

“That’s just dumb, Rockstar,” Ollie gave Cas a shove. “It cuts into the money they get to keep.”

“I hadn’t thought of that, either,” Sam said almost gleefully. The hallway had grown crowded as others made their way to the gym, but for once, there was a lot of chattering. People were questioning what happened, who’d cut up their shoes, and what the punishment might be.

Maybe feeling just a little guilt, Sam rationalized that they’d have been punished no matter what. There were no torture-free days around here. At least, this time, some of them would get something out of it. He doubted Cas was the only one being forced to wear too-small shoes. 

In the gym, he dumped his shoes on the floor, right next to him. Cameron was visibly absent. He’d done the right thing, he’d do it again, Sam told himself, even if they’d be punished for it.

Castiel grimaced at the scowl he saw on Nathan’s face. Apparently everyone in their wing had had their shoes ruined. Nathan finally turned to face the students.

“I don’t care which one of you did this. Perhaps you all did this. It doesn’t matter,” Nathan said, slowly walking up the line of boys, his face hard and without sympathy. “You will all suffer punishment for allowing this to happen even if one of you chooses to accept the burden of blame. Some of you will suffer more. Names have been chosen at random from the _entire_ school to that end. If your name is called, report to Hunter Gordon. The rest of you, until lunch time, you will all stand here. Perfectly still. Completely silent, unless asked a question. You may not ask questions. You may not use the restroom or get a drink. Anyone who fails to stay silent and still will join those being more severely punished. Gordon, collect the ‘guilty.’”

Gordon walked through the rows of boys, stopping suddenly now and again and tapping someone on the shoulder, or growling at them to go stand near the door. He marched with relish and Sam could tell he was getting sadistic pleasure out of keeping the guys on edge, turning suddenly and tagging someone who might be breathing easier because they’d been passed over. _Bastard._

It seemed to go on forever, before Gordon stopped in front of Sam. He knew. Sam could see it in the man’s eyes.

“New boy. Think you got us fooled? You’ve got _shit._ ”

Sam didn’t flinch from his stare. His nostrils flared, but he kept his mouth clamped shut, willing himself not to get the others into more trouble. 

“That’s right. Swallow it down. Swallow all of it down or I will _end_ you.” Grabbing Sam’s shoulder, Gordon shoved him out of the line. “You too, blue eyes. Get your ass moving.”

Castiel’s eyes grew slightly bigger and he glanced briefly at Hunter Nathan. _Random, my ass,_ he thought, his gaze switching to Gordon who was choosing both the problem kids and the kids who were the closest to being...well, crazy. The ones who didn’t care about anyone else anymore. 

He fell in behind Sam and stood in line at the doorway. He saw other students of different ages being pulled out from their classes and gathered at one of the other doors. Some of the younger kids sobbed, at least until they were silenced. Castiel really wished he was anywhere but here.

Sam’s eyes blazed with anger. He hated this, feeling so damned helpless. Knowing how wrong this was, no matter what the hunters said, or your own father said. There was nothing good or righteous about this. What they were doing here, these hunters, it was just as bad as what the demons did. At least the demons didn’t pretend their acts served anything but evil.

One day. One day he would teach them all a lesson. 

Gordon was just about to march them out the door when he raised his hand for them to stop. “You all thought it was funny, didn’t you?” His voice rose as he asked the question. “I asked, didn’t you?”

Low mumbles, mostly of “no” sounded.

“You don’t think it’s funny now, do you?”

“No, Sir!” This time the answers were almost unanimous, and loud.

“And yesterday, you thought the early exorcism was funny, didn’t you?”

Once again, there were low denials.

“Well, you won’t think it’s funny anymore. Cameron is dead. He was found hanging by the neck in the infirmary.”

“Bastards...”

“Did you say something, Winchester?”

The light had gone out of Sam’s eyes and he just shook his head. He’d fucked up. He’d fucked up and now someone was dead. 

_It’s not your fault, Sam. Don’t let them get inside your head._ Castiel thought to Sam, feeling the waves of guilt roll off of him. _I helped too. And everyone in there said they’d done it. Everyone thought it was the right thing to do._

Sam turned and met Castiel’s eyes. _But I did it. They didn’t._

 _And someone commits suicide here at least four times a year. He killed himself because of the demons, not because you freed him,_ Castiel told him. 

_I think the screws killed him. I think they did it to punish me... punish everyone who was happy that the demon was gone from him. He didn’t have to die._ Course he would never know for sure, but Sam was convinced.

 _There’s no point in killing bait,_ Castiel argued and nudged Sam to keep walking. _If he didn’t take his own life, he probably died from his injuries. Don’t let their head games work._

Unconvinced, Sam didn’t answer, but moved along. _Where the fuck are they taking us?_

 _Dunno. Maybe putting us all out as bait. Maybe taking us to discipline us. I’m sure we’ll find out sooner than we’d like._ Castiel said.

Castiel couldn’t have been more right. They were all marched out to a small shed and packed inside it like sardines, shoulder-to-shoulder. Then the door was slammed shut and they couldn’t hear anything more from outside. They’d been left without air conditioning or water, out in the sweltering heat. It was going to get uncomfortable very, very soon.

“How long do they leave people in here,” Sam asked, fear tingeing his voice.

“Hours,” somebody said.

“Until we’re all dead!”

“I want my mom!” a young voice cried out, joined by a few others.

“For God’s sake, shut up!” one of the older boys shouted. “Your parents didn’t want you. That’s why you’re here! Just like all of us! All we’re good for is being meatsuits for demons!”

“Everyone, quiet!” Castiel demanded. “We’re going to be fine. If we die, angels will come for us and take us to another place, a place where we’re loved. But while we’re here, we need to look out for one another and trust God will help us. 

Pausing, Castiel spoke again. “Each of us take turns telling about a good memory. It’ll keep our minds off this,” he said. “I...I remember the first time I saw Star Wars. It was so magical, it was so real. I wondered if there really was a place like that and I dreamed I was Han Solo that night when I went to sleep. It’s the first time I’ve ever really dreamed of being someone else, and it was nice.” He touched Sam’s back. “Your turn. Tell us something happy.”

It was amazing, how everyone listened to Castiel. Sam leaned his forehead against the wooden wall and searched his memories. “I was grounded. For... for studying when I should have been improving my rifle skills.” He heard some laughter. “My dad was so angry because... because I wasn’t as good as Dean was at my age. Dean’s my brother.” He sniffed. “Anyway, Dad came home real late and the whiskey he took for the pain... he’d gotten hurt... it put him to sleep. I was feeling... yeah, he hadn’t been too nice to me cause if I hadn’t been grounded, then Dean would have been with him and he wouldn’t have been hurt. That’s not the happy part.” 

Again, there was a little laughter. “I’d already gone to bed but after being stuck in that room for a week, I was bouncing off the walls. Then Dean... he comes in, opens the window and nods for us to get out. I couldn’t believe it, him going against Dad when Dad was right there... right in the next room.” He swallowed. “It was Fourth of July. We … we sat on a hill and watched the fireworks, just the two of us. It was beautiful. I think... I think the beer he gave me made it even more beautiful.”

There was more laughter.

Castiel nudged him. “Choose someone to tell the next story.”

They all listened as the boys talked of past memories. It was still hot, still stifling in the shed, but it also seemed a little...brighter. Once everyone had told a story, Castiel took back over again. “Okay, now let’s tell a funny story, or a funny scene from a movie, or something silly you or a friend did.” Castiel kept them going, kept them talking, tried to keep everyone from being afraid. Even when his voice was growing raspy from lack of water, he kept urging them to think of happy thoughts and share them with everyone.

Time seemed to slow down to a crawl. Everyone was getting restless. The youngest were complaining of thirst, and being tired, and cramps. With nothing else to do, Castiel tried offering them what solace he could by singing anything he could think of, even if it was just a commercial jingle. He really didn’t know many songs, but he did his best.

They were all startled when Ollie, who had refused to tell any happy tales, started quietly singing Amazing Grace.

That didn’t make Sam happy. It made him sad. Something he hated and couldn’t deal with. Anger was so much better than feeling defeated. 

Castiel was doing his best and Sam had to hand it to him, he was a born leader. He had a quiet style and wasn’t a bully, but people listened and were inspired by him.

“You’d have made a great boy scouts leader,” Sam whispered, pressing his shoulder more firmly against Castiel’s. They were both drenched with sweat and his clothes were sticking to him.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, though I don’t know what that is,” he answered, listening to Ollie’s singing. Ollie had quite a nice voice, all things considered. When Ollie finished, Castiel told him, “That was beautiful. Does anyone know the witch doctor song with the chipmunks? I know it starts out ‘oo-ee-oo-ah-ah’ or something like that.” Castiel smiled when one of the younger kids immediately began singing, making up words when he couldn’t remember or didn’t know them all. 

Castiel couldn’t help it and leaned against Sam’s back as he listened to the younger kids trying to out-do one another. It was even hotter when he leaned against Sam, but for just a few minutes he wanted the comfort.

Sam turned his head and found Cas was right there, only a few inches separating them. His mouth started to tingle, to burn slightly. Dean would have taken the kiss. It was dark, and no one would see in the dark room. But he wasn’t Dean. And Castiel was no girl. And he’d probably get his lights punched out or lose a friend.

Turning away, Sam gave a surprised grunt when he was pushed into the wall.

“Simon fainted!” Someone called out.

Bodies pressed together as those nearest to Simon tried to help him.

“Is there another way out of here. Another door, a window?” Sam asked. “if we had water...” 

“If we had water, he wouldn’t have fainted,” someone snapped at him.

“There’s no other way out,” Castiel told him. “Not unless we make our own way out, and we’ll all get punished even more severely if we do that. What we need is a good thunderstorm,” Castiel lamented. He wished a thunderstorm would pop up, cool things off and maybe they could put a few holes in the roof and they could get some water.

It wasn’t more than a handful of seconds later that they all felt the rumble of thunder and heard the wind pick up. The roof began to shake and suddenly part of the roof was torn off by the wind. Stifling heat escaped out of the shed and, within moments, cool soothing rain was falling on them.

“What the...” Sam started to laugh. “Oh yeah, faster baby,” he shouted, suddenly throwing his arms around Castiel and jumping up with joy. “Fuck... ribs... ribs...” 

Castiel was laughing as were many of the students. When Sam started cursing his injured ribs, Castiel winced and tried to act as a buffer for him so no one bumped into him as they welcomed the rain. “You shouldn’t be jumping around like a lunatic,” Castiel scolded him, but he was grinning up at Sam. “See? You just have to believe it’ll be okay.”  
.  
“Yah, new shoes, a nice long shower, music and stories. My life’s complete.” Cupping his hands so they formed a cone, he put them to his mouth and tilted his head back, drinking as much water as he could. 

The younger kids were crying that they couldn’t get any so the older ones tried to help them. Mostly, everyone was happy. Well, for being imprisoned in a tight place.

Castiel smiled, tilting his head and opening his mouth, giving silent thanks to God for the blessed rain.

 

* * *  
[2 weeks later]

They’d done it again, won the rights to see a movie. But while everyone else was staring at the screen, Sam found his gaze drawn to Castiel’s profile. 

Even in the dark, he could see how wide his eyes got when something unexpected happened, and how excited he was by the smallest things. His face wasn’t all that out of the ordinary, but if you focused on his eyes... man, there was a wealth of depth and meaning there.

After Cameron’s death, Sam had kept a low profile and managed not to get himself or the others into too much trouble. The hunters were on edge, he could see that. Maybe with all the things happening, the small rebellions, the ‘wins’ for the students, it was making them see that there was change in the air. There was a slight shift in the balance of power, and Sam couldn’t take credit for it all, but maybe he’d gotten the ball rolling a little. After Cameron’s death, more people were standing up for themselves. Course the solitary cells had been in constant use because of it.

He shook his head, clearing his mind of all the shit. There was a ray of sunshine in his life, and his name was Castiel. Even if Castiel would never know. Sam now had a reason to wake up in the mornings, or to run faster to get more points for their room, someone to try to make happy once in a while. 

Sometimes it felt good. And sometimes, it hurt. 

*

Castiel had really enjoyed the movie, Gremlins. He laughed at things he knew he shouldn’t laugh at, but everyone else was laughing too. He liked the word ‘Mogwai’. If he ever had a pet, that’s what he was going to name it. That or Indiana, after Indiana Jones. 

The lights in their dorm room had been turned off a good half hour ago, but Castiel couldn’t sleep. He kicked the underside of Sam’s bed. “You awake?” he whispered.

“No, I wasn’t, but I am now. Cut it out,” Sam groused. Castiel knew how much he hated it when Cas kicked under the bunk to get his attention.

“Grump,” Castiel said, kicking the bottom of the bed again. “I was going to see if you wanted some M&Ms but you’re like a Gremlin. It’s after midnight and you’re mean.”

“M&M’s? Wait... did you steal my M&Ms? You shit!” Rolling over, Sam hung down off the bed and made a swipe to grab the package that belonged to him. Knocking the arm Castiel put up as a defensive measure, he went for it again.

Castiel was grinning like the cat who ate the canary, taunting Sam with the bag of M&Ms as he dodged him. “You are such a wuss,” he accused, threatening to open the chocolates. “And you save chocolate? How lame is that? Chocolate should be eaten, like right away.”

“I’m growing and my blood sugar falls at the worst time... gimme,” Sam growled, stretching so far he almost slid off the top bunk. Cursing, he batted Castiel’s defensive hand away once again, then managed to grab the bag.

As he struggled to steal it, it slipped from both their hands and he ended up holding Castiel’s hand instead of the chocolate. His heart skipped a beat. Warmth stole over his entire body as he reflexively tightened his grip.

Sam knew he should say something. Should let go. But for the space of too many heartbeats, he was completely unable to.

When he came to his senses, he released Castiel’s hand. As Cas’ warm, calloused palm slipped along his own, he drew his breath in and closed his eyes. Pulling himself up to his bed, he rolled onto his side, lightly rubbing his burning palm. 

Castiel had never held anyone’s hand before. Never had anyone hold his. He hadn’t expected the flip-flop his stomach did or the way his heartbeat sped up. Was it always like that? He wondered as Sam’s grip tightened and his own tightened in response. He’d seen lovers hold hands in the movies, and sometimes little kids. His breathing had completely stopped as he just sat there, dumbfounded at the electricity passing between their hands. 

Then Sam let his hand go.

And he drew in a deep breath. “Wow...” he whispered.

Sam wasn’t sure he’d heard right. He lifted his head off the pillow for a second, then lowered it back down. He had to be wrong. And even if he wasn’t, he _still_ had to be wrong. He hardly dared to breath and hoped, with all his heart, that Castiel would just let the moment pass and go to sleep.

“Sam?” Castiel asked softly. When Sam didn’t answer, he picked up his M&Ms. “These aren’t your M&Ms. They’re mine. Yours are still safe. Unless someone else took ‘em.” He ripped open the bag and ate a couple. “Offer’s still good if you want some,” he said.

After another moment of silence, Sam decided he couldn’t _not_ speak with Cas forever. “Thought you said it’s lame to save chocolate.” He crawled to the edge and looked down, but didn’t reach for them. 

Castiel smiled sheepishly at him, and then felt a slight flush, which he figured Sam couldn’t see in the dimly illuminated room and was glad for that. “Well...I know M&Ms cheer you up, so I thought maybe I’d save mine and then if you needed some cheering, I had some. But I wanted a couple.” He poured a few into his hand and held them out to Sam. “If you save them for a friend, it’s not lame.”

“That’s self-serving in the most unself-serving way,” Sam answered, staring for a long moment at the hand Castiel held up. Finally, he dropped his arm down and cupped his hand to let Cas drop some chocolates into his palm. “Sorry. For thinking you stole mine.”

Castiel chuckled. “I’m not angelic. I might have, just to tease you with them.” He poured a few M&Ms into Sam’s hand. “When you leave, when you turn eighteen...will you take me with you? I don’t know anything about that world except from the movies. I mean, I’ve never even seen grass or flowers that I remember.”

Castiel’s question, his suggestion somehow lifted a weight off Sam’s shoulders. He wouldn’t be alone in the world when he left here. And Cas was cool. They even had a shared background, both of them having tasted hell on earth. And they understood each other. Mostly. “Yeah. I’d like that,” Sam answered, still hanging down a little. “Have they given you a birthday? So we know when you can get out?” 

“June first. That’s when they found me. But no one knows when I was really born, so when you’re eighteen, I want to leave, too. Your birthday is May second, right? It’s close enough to mine.” He touched Sam’s hand lightly to encourage him to eat the M&Ms.

Castiel’s unexpected touch almost caused Sam to drop the M&M’s. Tightening his fist, he pulled his hand up, out of the way of danger. “I could... I could figure out where we’ll live, maybe find us jobs. I don’t want any help from _them_ ,” he said adamantly. “I don’t want them to know where I am or anything. So I’ll figure out the basics, and come back and get you on your birthday. June 1... you’re walking out that door.” 

“The only thing I know how to do is be a hunter,” Castiel said. “...Or maybe I could be the ‘boy scout leader’ you mentioned I’d be good at? It’s going to suck being here without you,” he added, deciding he’d work on Sam to convince him they should leave together. He popped a few more M&Ms and chewed happily on them.

“Maybe I’ll steal you away,” Sam answered softly, rolling onto his back.


	4. Chapter 4

[One Week Later]

Castiel was pacing while Ollie was sitting in the chair, leaning back and yawning. “Stop worrying,” Ollie said. “He’s not hurt any worse than I was a few weeks back, and I’m practically good as new.”

Castiel gave him a mild glare. “Yes, tell me that again when you fall out of your bunk screaming. You moved to the bottom bunk. You _hate_ the bottom bunk.”

Ollie returned the glare. “Shaddup. I’ll be back in _my_ bunk in another week. I got three packs of M &Ms and a six pack of tacos resting on it. And you know how I love tacos. One week. Guaranteed.”

Castiel just nodded his head and watched Sam’s pale bruised face. “C’mon Sammy. Wake up,” he begged softly.

Sam fought to stay where he didn’t have to think or feel or remember. Where he didn’t have to face the worst ten hours of his life. But that annoying, incessant voice kept at him, over and over, begging him to wake. If he could have swatted the owner of the voice, he would have.

In fact, when he opened his eyes, he tried to do just that. Only his entire body was suddenly paralyzed by pain. “Kill me now,” he said through clenched teeth, grimacing as if it would help. It felt like someone had dropped a refrigerator on top of him. No, make that an iron maiden, because there were points of sharp pain on his thigh, at his side and in his palms.

Slowly, he lifted his hands and saw the wounds through his palms and blanched. That hadn’t even been the hunters or the students, that had been the demon inside him, drawing the daggers toward him so that he’d been pinned to the wall. 

_Surely that must move you_. He recalled the ugly creepy voice from inside him directing the comment to Castiel.

“Your hands are bleeding again,” Castiel said, waving at Ollie to get him fresh bandages. “Man, you must have had an old demon since he was like trying to crucify you. But I don’t get why he did it, when he was in your body to begin with. And why he kept trying to egg me on.” He denied the idea that maybe the demon sensed head feelings for Sam, feelings he didn’t really understand, feelings that were different from how he felt about the other students.

Castiel took the bandages Ollie handed him and carefully cut off the bandages from Sam’s left hand. The doctor hadn’t stitched up either side since it was a puncture. “But if you don’t stop trying to clench your fists, these will take forever to heal.”

“What does it matter?” Sam asked listlessly. He didn’t want to think about the demon’s reasons, the things he’d seen, and how he’d felt. His skin crawled and his heart raced each time he remembered something else and he just didn’t want it, any of it. 

Castiel chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. “Well...if they don’t heal up, and you have holes in your palms, you won’t be able to hold M&Ms in them anymore. And that’s a fate worse than death to a chocolate lover like you, I’m sure.” He gave Sam a tentative smile, hoping his joke made Sam smile, even if just a little as Castiel tended to his hands.

Sam couldn’t help smiling back. Unfortunately, he also instinctively tried to squeeze Cas’ hand and that had him almost yelling out his pain, then cursing worse than any of the screws. “Don’t do that again,” he growled.

Ollie broke into laughter. “Gunner, you’re such a sap. Jesus, if your googly eyes were any more obvious, the screws would catch on.”

Castiel furrowed his brows and looked at Ollie, plainly confused, then just ignored him. Sometimes Ollie didn’t make sense to him. Like now. “I’ll make you laugh all I want to. Or at least smile. But if you don’t behave, I’ll put your hands in splints so you stop moving them.”

Ollie looked between them then began laughing harder. “Okay, you’re awake, you’re not nutso, so Rockstar here is safe from you going all loco on him. I’m out of here. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, Gunner. Which leaves the field wide open to you.” He gave Sam a lecherous grin then began whistling as he left.

“What did you tell him?” Sam asked, feeling his cheeks warm up. He’d made damned sure to keep his distance from Cas, not stare at him, and not touch him in any way. Ever since that night... Maybe Castiel had figured it out. He wasn’t one to keep secrets, not unless you told him to or it was something to be kept from the screws. His eyes met Castiel’s, and although he felt a jolt of heat go through him, there was _definitely_ nothing googly about Cas’ eyes.

“Tell him? Tell him what? He’s just being all weird,” Castiel said, giving a shake of his head. “He says weird shit all the time. You know that. Another handful of possessions and everyone knows Ollie is going to end up going to the psych ward. What did someone call it? The Hotel California was it? Yeah, I think that’s what it was. I’d like to go to California sometime and see the ocean. I’m not getting in the ocean though. I saw Jaws.”

“Salt sharks are worse than sea sharks,” Sam muttered, tossing a look toward the semi-open door. Yeah, the screws, those bastards, and this shit hole they’d founded in the salt flats. “Salt sharks kill you a little at a time. At least with a sea shark... it’s over.”

Once Cas was done with the bandaging, Sam drew his arms closer to his body. “You’ll get your chance. To see California. I’d like to go to school there. I don’t know about transcripts...” he trailed off, wondering if it was yet another impossible dream he was still nursing from when he’d been a kid. And was he doing it only to prove a point to his father who’d said there was no way he could ever live a regular life?

“But...you’re going to get out of school here just to go to another school?” Castiel began chewing on his lower lip again. “I don’t want...I mean, once I’m out of school, I don’t want to be forced into another place like this. I thought...I thought you said we’d get jobs and a place to live. And I’ve never heard of salt sharks. I’ve been here a long time and never heard of an attack by them, not even during the flood season when the salt beds have water on top of them. Are salt sharks...rare? How big are they? What do they eat?” Castiel asked, unsure if Sam was making fun of him. Some of the others still did. Said he was gullible. But Sam wouldn’t do that...would he?

Sam started to laugh again, then cursed at Castiel. “Didn’t I just say don’t make me laugh, damn you. Oh God... I hurt... everywhere. Except my nose, that feels fine. And ears, but that’s about it.” He took a couple of heavy breaths, then turned his head on the pillow to look at Castiel.

Castiel folded his arms across his chest and glared at Sam. He was making fun of him.

“‘Member... remember that movie we saw a couple weeks back, with the slasher on the university campus? I don’t know for sure, but I think I’d like to go to college. Minus the slasher,” he clarified. “People study cause they wanna. It’s about the information and learning, not getting kicked in the head by _our salt sharks_... the screws. A teacher, a real one would get arrested for doing half of what they do to us here. And yeah, I’d work too. College students have jobs to pay for things like... like ice cream, and popcorn, and movies,” he said smiling. “And sometimes they have an annoying roommate, but they don’t have a room full of ‘em.”

Castiel gave a soft sigh and brushed Sam’s hair back from his face. “You need a haircut...Okay, how about after a few years of you doing this college thing, then we travel. I want to see everything. I want to climb mountains, and scuba dive--as long as it’s a shark free zone--and I want to ride a horse, and a camel, and even an elephant! I want to go to the North Pole and the South Pole, and learn to sail, and to make...moonshine. And someday I want to go swimming in hot tub full of M&Ms. I want to try pizza from Italy, and sushi in Japan. ...And steak in Texas, and...any other foods like that. I want to learn to drive a car and motorcycle, too. Can we do all that?” He asked, hope and innocence shining in his eyes as he absently, gently, stroked Sam’s bruised cheek.

Sam’s eyes closed, his lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he thought about doing half those things. “Except M&Ms would melt. And we’d need to become bank robbers or something, cause how’re we getting to all these places? Flying?”

His eyes suddenly opened and he looked at a point directly behind and above Castiel’s shoulders. Choking on the dark images he was forced to re-live, he drew his gaze away and tried to roll onto his side.

Castiel tilted his head at seeing Sam’s look and quickly grabbed Sam’s shoulder. He knew Sam was remembering something from his recent possession but didn’t bring it up. “No, you need to stay on your back. You’ll pull out your stitches, and it’ll hurt anyhow. And we’ll take boats. Cargo boats or something. Trade work for the trip. Hitchhike. Whatever it takes. Without stealing. I promise we’ll find a way.”

Grimacing, Sam rolled back. “We could steal from the bad. Kinda like Robin Hood. If we help people, people like us. I dunno. I don’t think I want to be a hunter. That’s my dad’s dream, not mine.” 

Castiel nodded, chuckling at the stubborn tilt to Sam’s jaw. “Okay, we can help people. Against monsters and humans. And collect some rewards along the way.” Tugging the sheet back up over Sam’s chest, he smoothed out some of the wrinkles in it. “You’re lucky you know your dad and what his dreams are.” He put his fingers lightly on Sam’s lips. “Shhh. I know he put you here, but the first place, the first school, it wasn’t this bad, was it? I bet he thought it was nice and that you’d be taken care of. Don’t blame him until you’re sure. Don’t hate him either. It might be a big mistake. People let go of those they love because they think it’s for the best...at least, they do that in movies. I want to believe they do that in real life, too. And don’t tell me it’s a big Hollywood lie. I don’t care. I still want to believe it.”

Sam’s eyes flared with the heat of his ever present anger at his dad, but he held back his words. Cas didn’t know, he hadn’t been there, and Cas wanted to believe the best of everyone. Sometime that even included the screws. He just gave Cas a grim smile, and let it go.

“See, you can get past it if you try,” Castiel teased him. “Now you need to sleep. Take your pills, then I’ll tuck you in, and you can sleep in tomorrow morning and mock us all while you’ve got your feet up and you’re eating chocolate pudding or drinking milkshakes, or whatever your chosen treat is this time.” He held up the little cup with a half dozen pills in it, and a glass of water with a straw.

“Thanks, nurse.” Sam pushed himself up and took the pills, washing them down with the water. “Tell Ollie if I find _anything_ in my bed, I’m gonna kill him.” Never mind that Sam had put crushed crackers in the guy’s bed when Ollie had been in the infirmary. “Night, Cas.”

“I’ll tell him, but he mentioned something about owing you one,” Castiel said, refilling the glass and setting it on the nightstand. “Good night. Try to sleep through the night. Only good dreams.” He gave Sam’s shoulder a very gentle squeeze, then stood up and stretched before giving Sam a smile and heading back to the general room for an hour before it was lights out time.

Sam had caught a nice glimpse of bare skin when Castiel’s tee shirt got pulled up as he stretched. Sometimes there were unexpected benefits to being forced to wear old or shrunken clothing. The corners of his mouth lifted slightly as he told himself it was okay, he was entitled to be loopy. He’d just taken a handful of pills and his nurse was damned sexy, and the fact that he had no clue? It made him that much sexier.

* * *

A sheen of sweat covered Sam’s brow. His heart was beating so loud, it was hard to listen for other noises. Creaking sounds. Creepy, raspy sounds that felt like someone was dragging their fingernails over a chalkboard, only it was all inside your head.

That’s how it had felt to have the demon inside him, using him, speaking through him and making vile threats through him. The demon had kept turning its attention on Castiel during the exorcism. Sam had thought it was because it had detected Sam’s interest or connection to Cas. At least at first. Later, there had been this one moment when its interest in Castiel had sharpened. Sam’s stomach still churned at the memory of the dark thrill that had vibrated through the demon at that moment. 

He squeezed his eyes closed, trying to stop himself from thinking of that moment, the moment the demon had made him see shadowy dark wings on Castiel. The wings were so big, they took up the room. The demon wanted to turn Cas into that winged creature, Sam was sure of it. If it hadn’t been for the devil’s trap, the demon would have left Sam and taken Castiel. It wanted Cas so bad, wanted to be him with every fiber of its existence.

Maybe it was Castiel’s innocence that drew it. Made it want to pervert Cas and turn him into a black winged monster. Sam gripped the bedding, trying to make the image go away. What was worse was the sure knowledge that this thing would be back. It, or others. It had called Castiel _the prize_ and been almost gleeful as it was exorcised, saying something about having information to trade with the Prince of Hell.

Cas was next. He was going to be possessed. Sam couldn’t tell him that. What good would it do anyway? 

A sound from the hall jolted him practically out of his skin and sent his heart racing again. It was impossible. This was impossible. He wasn’t staying here alone. He’d rather be in his room, with the guys, and maybe getting some sleep instead of just laying here, waiting for something bad to happen. Maybe the hard knot in his stomach would melt away when he was with them.

It took Sam forever to get out of bed. Because both hand were injured, he couldn’t push himself up but had to roll to the edge and drop his leg down, almost collapsing to the floor and breaking the fall using his elbows on the edge of the bed. Spotting a pair of crutches leaned against the wall, he hopped toward it and only restrained himself from screaming out his agony.

Then there were the long hallways. A walk that should have taken a few minutes at most took him more than half an hour, but at last, he was in their room. A little sense of peace settled over him, just like that.

_Cas. You awake? I need some help._

When Cas didn’t answer his mental call, Sam gripped the ladder and looked up at his bed. Could he make it up alone?

“What are you doing?” Castiel asked softly, not wanting to rouse the other boys. He wiped at the sleep in his eyes, then blinked a couple times, thinking he was imagining things. Sam was standing at the ladder to his bunk, shirtless, a light sheen of sweat on his bruised body. Castiel licked his lips, startled by the beauty he found in the shadows playing across that well-muscled chest, startled by the jolt that filled him, reminding him of when Sam had held his hand. He switched over to telepathy, mostly so he could yell at him without waking anyone else.

 _”You’re supposed to be in the infirmary for at least five days, Sam!”_ he scolded.

 _”I couldn’t. I just...”_ Sam gripped the ladder tighter. _“You won’t get in trouble, for this?”_

Castiel understood. Most of the boys hated being stuck alone in the infirmary after a possession. It was creepy there, and everyone was so used to having another six or seven kids in the room, it was unsettling to have no one around, especially after that kind of trauma. 

_You came here on your own. I doubt it. You’ll probably get an earful in the morning and be moved back to the infirmary._ Castiel sat up and yawned. _You take my bunk. I’ll sleep in yours...oh, no, I won’t. Ollie already put something in yours and I’m not sure I want to know what it was._

 _Shit..._ Sam swayed a little, the thought of clearing crumbs out of his bed seeming an impossible task. 

Scooting over, Castiel folded back the covers. _You can sleep with me tonight and we’ll get you back to the infirmary first thing in the morning. You need any help getting in?_

 _No, thanks, Nurse Cas, I can manage._ The smile that curled the corners of his mouth fell away at the sharp stab of pain in his thigh when he sat on the edge of the bed. Securing the crutches behind the ladder, he slowly eased down and put his head down on the pillow.

 _Stop calling me a nurse. If you weren’t hurt, I’d punch you,_ Castiel threatened. 

As the light sheet dropped over him, the gust of air brought a rush of Castiel’s clean fresh scent to Sam. He took a couple deep breaths, then turned his face toward Cas. _Your spot is nice and warm._ Usually, he might have hated that, seeing as the weather was so warm. But he’d lost a lot of blood and that left him feeling cold, like it was freezing. Or maybe it was fever. He’d been hot and cold all night.

Castiel scooted closer to Sam and put his arm across Sam’s chest. _Still feeling cold? You were mumbling about being cold the whole time the doctor was working on you and you were out of it. I can get a blanket for you if you want me to._

 _I was?_ He wished he could say he was cold enough to be numb to this, but he felt nowhere near numb. With Castiel’s arm across his bare chest, holding him, with the heat of his body seeping through the sheets and the light pajama pants he was wearing, every nerve in Sam’s body was on fire. 

_I’m in bed. With you._ The thoughts slipped out before Sam could stop them. Sam’s heart lurched so hard he was sure Cas felt it. _Uh, you know what everyone will think._ He prayed Cas couldn’t tell what he was feeling, what he was really thinking. There was no reason to think Cas could, it wasn’t like Sam could feel anything Cas felt.

Castiel chuckled. _Okay, you pass the sanity exam. Yes, we’re in bed together. And what will everybody think? That you were too much of a pansy ass to be able to climb into your own bed? Look, it’s really Ollie’s fault we’re sharing a bed, so blame him. I’ll tell everyone you made it into your bed if you’re afraid they’re going to call you a wuss, but that you were too tired to clean up whatever’s up there. So stop worrying and get your heart rate slowed down. You’ll never fall asleep with the way your heart is hammering against your chest._ Castiel wasn’t about to admit he liked the way Sam smelled or that his own heart was thundering and he didn’t really understand why.

 _You don’t. Pass the sanity test, I mean._ Castiel really didn’t get it, even now? Not that Ollie had been subtle but they were now in the same bed. _They’re not gonna think I’m a wuss. They’re gonna think I finally got you in bed. With me. That’s what they’re gonna think._ Course, the fact that Cas had pointed out his heart was outta control, just made the damn thing beat faster. He closed his eyes, if only to help him forget that Castiel’s mouth was only inches away.

Castiel gave a sigh. _Look, even if we were an ‘item,’ you’re way too hurt to do anything. So let them talk and tease all they want, okay?_ He preferred to simply ignore the innuendos that the guys made. That went equally for comments they made about getting together with girls too. 

_I wasn’t worried for me._ At least Cas got what he was talking about, cause explaining that wasn’t on Sam’s list of ‘fun things to do when you’re in bed with a guy who’s been driving you nuts for months.’ Whatever he was gonna say flew from his mind when Castiel’s hand moved a little on his chest. Sam swallowed audibly and whispered, “G’night.” 

“Good Night, Sammy,” Castiel said, re-adjusting his position one more time to make certain he wasn’t going to end up lying against one of Sam’s injuries, then closing his eyes. _I’m not going to molest you while you’re sleeping. For God’s sake, relax,_ he scolded, blowing his breath out and trying to take his own advice.

Sam almost sat up, dropping back when he tried to use his hands to lift off the mattress. Eyes wide open, half-rolled onto his side now, he stared down at Castiel. Cas had no clue... none. _Well what about when I’m awake? No, don’t answer that. Go to sleep, Rockstar._ Letting out a hot breath, he lowered down and tried to force his body to relax, one muscle at a time.

* * * 

”Got you.” Sam jumped off the boulder, tackled Castiel down onto the beach, and rolled once, before ending up on top and looking down at the startled boy. 

“You’re all wet. Did you meet any sea sharks?” he asked, his gaze dropping to Castiel’s lips. He slid his hand along Cas’ side, shifting his body a little.

“You’d have heard me scream like David if I had,” Castiel said, a smile curving his lips. “If I’m wet, it’s all your fault.”

“For bringing you to California?” Sam pushed his knee between Cas’ legs, his eye warming as he pressed his thigh against Castiel’s cock covered only by his thin wet swim trunks. “You wanna meet a land shark? Do you, baby?” 

“I don’t think my being wet has anything to do with California.” Castiel wriggled against Sam’s leg. “Mmmm, I don’t know. Does this land shark bite?”

“Oh yeah... it bites.” Bringing his mouth down over Castiel’s, Sam kissed him the way he’d wanted to all that time he’d been watching him ride the waves with his boogie board. Pushing his tongue into the heat of Castiel’s mouth, he moaned and moved against him, heat rushing through him as they ground against each other.

Castiel closed his eyes, sucking on and stroking Sam’s tongue. He arched up against Sam’s hard, hot body, moaning as he felt his cock hardening. 

So irresistible. So damned sexy, and all his now. All his. Sam groped every inch of Castiel’s body. “So good, so good, baby,” he whispered, working his hand under Cas’ trunks, squeezing his bare wet ass, then lifting him up as he ground against him.

Castiel’s whole body thrummed with excitement as Sam touched and caressed him, rubbed against him and kissed him within an inch of his life. Warmth and love filled him, and he finally identified the strange feelings filling. He was happy... 

“Taste sweet, like candy, and salty, like the sea,” Sam whispered huskily, squeezing Cas’ ass again and pulling him closer. A sharp pain cut through his dreams, through everything, shocking him awake. “Oh God...” 

He should have kept his mouth shut, but he’d awakened Castiel. They were on their sides, face-to-face, and his hand was in Cas’ shorts. _I... I was asleep, I swear,_ he said, trying to pull his hand free. _Please don’t yell._

Castiel’s eyes widened when he heard Sam’s voice, when the dream of Sam and him making out shattered. His cock was hard, hard like he’d seen on the other guys, when they first woke up. He had never had his cock hard like this and a small part of him celebrated. Maybe he wasn’t completely weird and ruined by everything that had happened to him through the years. He wasn’t as different as he feared. He could get a hard on just like any of the other guys.

Biting his lower lip, he met Sam’s fearful gaze. Instead of answering, instead of saying anything, he simply leaned in and tentatively kissed Sam. 

When Castiel’s lips touched his own, Sam’s heart almost stopped. Just as he started to kiss Castiel back, it was over. _Is this one of those ‘dream within a dream’ moments? If so, can I have a rewind?_ He managed to pull his hand free and then ran it lightly along the side of Castiel’s face, his fingertips memorizing every plane. 

Castiel felt his face get hot. He’d never kissed anyone before but he remembered the dream, how he’d been kissing Sam. Or how Sam had been kissing him. Not trusting himself to speak, or to even mentally think an answer to Sam, he gave a shy smile and leaned back in and kissed Sam again, this time making sure his mouth was a little open so that Sam could kiss him back like in his dream.

Another soft sound escaped Sam as he leaned in and moved his mouth over Castiel’s, this time finding Cas’ lips parted in invitation. Delving his tongue inside, Sam curled his tongue around Castiel’s and pressed against him. He had quite a lot of experience kissing and touching, but he’d mostly only talked about ‘other stuff.’

Castiel wasn’t exactly sure what he was supposed to do, but he encouraged Sam and tried to respond. He remembered sucking on Sam’s tongue in the dream but apparently, in real life it was harder, especially with Sam’s tongue investigating his entire mouth. When Sam pressed against him though, against his stiff cock, Cas gave a soft sound that sounded just a bit like a needy moan.

Sam rolled on top Cas, still kissing him. Thrusting lightly against him, he fought to swallow down his moan. It felt so good. So damned right. It made him wish they were already far away from this place. _So maybe, in California, we’ll get a place with one bed. Be more than bunk mates. Just saying..._

He was more than saying. If he wasn’t hurting all over, he’d be a little more aggressive, but Sam was forced to balance between pleasure and pain. 

_Shhh, you’ll wake the others,_ Castiel cautioned him, wincing as he heard the springs creak under them. _Too noisy. The others will hear, or the screws._ Even as he was telling Sam they should stop, he couldn’t stop kissing him and thrusting back. _We’ll need two beds...or we’ll never get any sleep,_ he added, somehow his mental words sounding almost breathless.

 _We won’t have to get up early, so who cares?_ Sam moved his mouth along Castiel’s jaw and started to kiss his throat when he heard one of the guys roll over abruptly. Stilling, all he knew was his cock was aching and every cell in his body was screaming at him to go back to what they’d been doing.

 _You get to sleep in. I don’t,_ he told Sam, closing his eyes at all the overwhelming feelings Sam was stirring in him. It was almost painful it was so overwhelming. He stopped Sam and looked up into his eyes. _C...Can we...can we just kiss and hold each other? I’m...I’m not ready for more. And you’re too hurt for more._

 _I meant in California, not... here!_ Laughing silently, Sam rolled off Cas. _Okay, get to the kissing and the holding... Lips getting cold here._ As soon as Cas leaned in, Sam met his lips part way and lost himself in the kiss. _Medicinal kissing, if anyone asks._

 _Now I understand what incorrigible really means,_ Castiel said, making sure Sam’s lips wouldn’t get cold anytime soon.


	5. Chapter 5

Over the next two days, he and Castiel had hung out even more than usual. They’d exchanged a lot of heated looks and, though they hadn’t gotten into the same bed again, Cas had taken the top bunk and then dropped his arm down to hold so they could hold hands.

It was probably real weird, or it would have looked weird to anyone who’d seen, but they spent the last minutes before falling asleep just like that. Mentally communicating and lightly holding hands.

Sam was supposed to have had a week off regular training, but he was healing so fast, they’d probably pull him into the regular schedule in just another day. In the meantime, Sam used his free time in the library and at the computers, instead of relaxing in front of the T.V. in the infirmary or the common room.

The things the demon had thought about Castiel, he still couldn’t get them out of his head. Now he was motivated, real motivated, to find a solution. There had to be a way to prevent possession, there just had to be. And he was gonna find it and protect Cas from the plans of that _thing_ that had been inside him.

He stared at the monitor until his eyes burned. Wiped out, he lay his head down on his arms on the desk, thinking he’d just give his eyes a couple minutes break.

*  
It was approaching lights out and Castiel hadn’t seen Sam all evening. He wouldn’t tell Castiel what he was working on, and Castiel didn’t pursue it. That attitude baffled most of the guys. Secrets didn’t bother him. He had no burning curiosity to discover anything anyone wanted to keep hidden.

Although Sam wouldn’t tell him, Castiel did know Sam was in the library working on his secret project. With it getting closer and closer to lights out, and not wanting Sam to get into trouble...again...for staying up past lights out, he hurried to the library. Sure enough, Sam was passed out in front of a dark screened computer. Shaking his head, he carefully began gathering Sam’s work and putting books back on the shelves. Glancing at the research, Castiel couldn’t help but realize Sam was trying to find a way to prevent possession. That was ridiculous though because if there was a way, surely the screws would have long since discovered it.

He shook Sam gently. “C’mon Sam. Wake up. If you don’t, I won’t kiss you for a whole week,” Castiel threatened.

“Mmm go away.” One more shake had Sam lifting his head and wiping the drool off the side of his mouth. He made a face and glared at Castiel. “You haven’t. Kissed me. In a week.” 

Castiel rolled his eyes. “You are such a child. It’s only been a few days. And if I kiss you now, we’ll never stop in time for lights out and we’ll both get in trouble, or they’ll check the vids and see what we’ve been up to.” He nodded toward the camera. “Course, once they’ve done the bed-check we could maybe, I dunno, get friendly. And maybe I can get your mind off of this impossible task you’ve set for yourself.” 

Sam’s eyes snapped to Castiel’s, holding his gaze. He guessed it was no longer a secret what he was looking for. “There’s no such thing as impossible. There’s hard, super-hard, and needle in a haystack hard. A little motivation and anyone can do anything.” Seeing the one remaining unshelved book, he nodded toward it. “You missed that one.”

“And with a little motivation, I bet you can put that book back on the shelf, all by your lonesome,” Castiel said, folding his arms across his chest. “After you wipe the drool off of it.”

“You suck.” Sam got up, and made an extra show of being too injured to move with ease. “You know I was just at death’s door.” Seeing it wasn’t working, he grabbed the book and put it on the shelf. “If I expire from exhaustion, don’t feel too guilty.” 

“You’re supposed to be on bed rest. So if you expire from exhaustion, it’s your own fault,” Castiel said, stepping forward and smacking Sam sharply on his ass. He stepped away just as quickly, grinning.

“Man, you’re sassy today. Something happen in class I should know about?” Sam walked alongside Castiel, but couldn’t hide his smile.

“Nope. Just...just happy. Weird huh?” Glancing at Sam almost shyly he added, “Since you and me...it’s changed stuff for me. I mean, I’ve got a future to look forward to. With you.” 

Sam glanced at Cas, then looked straight ahead, keeping his features neutral for onlookers. _Me too. For a while, I’d kinda been hoping one of their beatings would put me into the ground,_ he admitted. _That’s changed. Since... since you and your puppy dog eyes... definitely a husky. Sorry, stream of consciousness thing._

Sam’s comment wrested a soft chuckle from Castiel. “Hopeless,” he murmured. _So what can I do to help you with your impossible task?_ Castiel suddenly stopped and looked around. After a moment he shook his head and began walking again.

“Stop calling it impossible. What’s the matter?” Sam stared at Cas, then looked behind them down the hall. There were a few kids rushing to their rooms and the usual, ever present, cameras. 

“If it wasn’t impossible, the screws would have figured it out a long time ago,” Castiel answered, “But it’s not like I’ve got anything better to do. So...” He paused. “Nothing’s the matter. Just got a...for a moment...felt like eyes were watching me. Just my imagination and too much Twilight Zone.”

“Or too much of this place, the cameras, the people, the screws. I can’t wait for us to get away. No more stupid weights on your...” He blanched. “Why did you say they do that to you?” It had slipped Sam’s mind, it had fucking slipped his mind. But the image of the devilish wings spread wide on either side of Castiel’s shoulders, that Sam would never forget.

Castiel shrugged. “Last couple times I got possessed, I ended up flying around the room. Then once, when someone scared the crap out of me, I ended up airborne and just hung there and I wasn’t even possessed. After that, they put the weights on me.” A moment later, Castiel spoke telepathically to Sam. _They aren’t heavy anymore. I act like they still are, but I know I could run with them on without them slowing me down. And don’t say I’ve just gotten used to them. It’s more than that._

 _Maybe you just think you can run. I haven’t seen you try._ Sam tried to stay calm, but his mind was racing. Castiel couldn’t _already_ have wings. No, the demons were going to turn him into that thing. He couldn’t already...”Umpf”

“Watch where you’re going, doofus.” 

Some guy Sam walked into shoved him across the hall. His back hit the wall and he only just prevented himself from falling to the ground. “Try that in a week or two, jerk!”

Castiel was at Sam’s side almost instantly. “And you accuse me of always having my head in the clouds. Want me to pound the guy into the ground for you?” Although his voice was light, his eyes showed concern. His hands brushed over Sam’s ribs checking for fresh damage or torn stitches.

“Don’t. Cas, don’t--” Sam’s tone became sharp and he practically pulled away. He didn’t want Castiel to turn into anything. He didn’t want him possessed. He wanted them to have that future they’d talked about, whether it was as friends, or more. But if the guy kept touching him... _Unless you wanna be kissed in plain view, stop touching me!_. God, he wanted to pull Cas into his arms and tell him none of those things were ever gonna happen to him. 

Castiel gave a huff, a perfect imitation of Sam’s annoyed huffs and raised his hands, away from Sam. _Your mind is like a bowling bowl on amateur night. Always in the gutter. I was being your medic, not your boyfriend. So are you okay?_

“I take it you haven’t seen nurse porn?” Sam shook his head and pushed away from the wall. _Did you say boyfriend? You’re my boyfriend? Really?_ He smiled at that. _Yeah!_

“Nurse porn is usually girls,” Castiel said. He gave a smile at Sam’s mental outburst. _Well, yeah. You think I’m gonna let you kiss me if we’re not boyfriends? I’m not a slut. Unlike you, apparently,_ he said, sounding overly stuffy and haughty and then his smile turned into a grin as he laughed.

 _Slutty Sam Does Nurse Cas. I like it._ Laughing out loud, Sam did his best to move away from Castiel, and rushed into their room.

“What’s so funny?”

“Ask Cas,” Sam said, still laughing as he tossed his clothes to the floor and sat down on his ‘boyfriend’s’ bed.

“Rockstar? Share, we could use a good laugh.”

“I just told Sam he was as clumsy as you, Ollie. He ran right into Stephen, his mind apparently on nurse porn.” Castiel dug out his toothbrush and toothpaste and headed into the bathroom.

Ollie looked at Sam and cocked an eyebrow at him. “Nurse porn?” His gaze shifted to the bathroom then back to Sam. “Yeah, I bet. Does your nurse have baby blue eyes, Gunner?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Sam dragged his eyes away from his nurse’s ass. “Speaking of porn, I did manage to hack my way past all the censors. Gentlemen, I’ve added to our archive. It’s under “S” for “Striperella. I didn’t tell Cas though, it’s not for virginal eyes.”

There were all sort of whoops and laughter and lots of enthusiasm for their next research class when they’d all have access to computers.

“I heard that, jerk,” Castiel said, leaning out the door and glaring at Sam before sticking his toothbrush in his mouth and starting to brush his teeth. He paused and pulled out his toothbrush and waved it at Sam. “And I don’t have virginal eyes, either!” he added as an afterthought.

Ollie pitched his voice low. “Careful, Gunner, or he’ll cut you off from holding his hand at night.” He gave Sam a smirk before climbing up to his bunk and settling in.

“Asshole.” Sam didn’t bother to deny it. It was just Ollie, and he must have seen. The guy wouldn’t tell the screws, though he hopefully had enough brains not too tell anyone else. 

Grabbing his own toothbrush, Sam headed for the bathroom. With the door only halfway open, it barred the view to the two of them standing in front of the mirror. Sam boldly moved right behind Castiel, pressed his hips up against Castiel’s ass and started to brush his teeth, locking gazes with Castiel in the mirror. 

Castiel felt his face turn hot and watched it turn into a flame shade of red as he tried to concentrate on brushing his teeth while Sam stood up against him like that. Even though he felt embarrassed, when it felt like Sam was going to step away, Castiel moved his free hand to Sam’s ass cheek and pulled him close. _Just cause I’m not a slut, doesn’t mean I want you to move,_ he teased Sam, and lightly leaned back against him. 

_I want to move. God... I really want to move_ , Sam answered, goosing Cas lightly with his hardening cock. He dared to put one arm around Cas and to rest his palm against Castiel’s abs, under his shirt. _I’d like to kiss you right here,_ he said, running his finger in a small circle over Cas’ hot skin. _Do you think it would feel good?_

Castiel’s cheek burned even brighter when he felt Sam’s cock pressing against him and pretty much stopped brushing his teeth, just staring back into Sam’s eyes in the mirror. His breath hitched and he gave a nod. _Yeah. I think it would, but they’re going to hear we’re not brushing and wonder what we’re up to._ Castiel forced himself to start moving his toothbrush again and took some intermittent deep breaths while trying to get his cheeks to lose some of their color.

Leaning over Cas, Sam spit out the foamy tooth paste and dipping his brush in the water, brushed a little longer. His gaze constantly searched out Castiel’s but he didn’t say anything else. The heat in his eyes and his body was self-evident and Cas seemed a little nervous.

When he was done and rinsed out his mouth, he dried it, then dropped a kiss on Castiel’s shoulder before leaving the room. 

Ollie had just barely started to harass him when Sam blithely announced, “He’s taking a crap, okay?”

“Ewww... Shut the damn door, Rockstar....”

The calls and groans had Sam smiling as he got into Castiel’s bed and pulled the sheets up over himself.

Castiel spit out the toothpaste and poked his head out the door. “What?” When everyone just started making comments about the smell, Castiel glared at Sam nestled in his bed. _What did you tell them this time, jerk?_ he asked but didn’t wait for an answer as he shut the door to finish up.

* * * 

[Three Weeks Later]

Sam had never seen anything like this before. So many possessions in such a short period of time. Castiel said he’d never seen anything like it either. It was damned scary. Everyone paired up, not just for their own protection, but also to be around to notice changes in their partners. Devil’s traps were everywhere, painted, chalked, or projected. They were around the perimeter of the school too, so if a student got possessed outside, he couldn’t run too far.

Before all this started, Sam’s anti-possession research had turned up something that he thought was interesting. Castiel had been skeptical, but Sam had begged him to try something, for him. Sam had learned about a symbol that could be worn on an amulet or, for a more permanent solutions, as a tattoo. They’d drawn the symbol on the inside of each others’ arm, and, because sweat would regularly wipe the symbol out, they also wore the symbol as a charm. Cas had drawn it on cardboard and laminated it, then they threaded twine through a hole they’d punched and now wore it as a necklace under their clothes.

Then the screws had found out. Now they were alone, in the exorcism theater, waiting to get punished for wearing non-conforming jewelry.

“Wait till we tell them,” Sam said. “They’ll eat their words.”

“We’re not a hundred percent sure,” Castiel cautioned. “So let’s offer it as a _possible_ option. Besides they don’t like arrogance and you know it. Hopefully we’re dealing with Hunter Nathan and not Gordon. Gordon wouldn’t tell Nathan just out of spite.” Trying to defuse Sam’s anger before the screws showed up, Cas decided changing the subject would be a good idea. “I hope we can get some sodas on Friday night. I’m really wanting a root beer. And we haven’t had chocolate treats in what, two weeks?” 

Sam gave him a look that said he knew exactly what Cas was doing and it wasn’t working. “Maybe we shouldn’t tell them. Just take our lumps, then have more of the guys test it.” 

“What would we tell them, we’re in some secret club?” Castiel asked. “That would go over well. No, stick with the truth. Just try to be...nice...when they ask you stuff, okay? I don’t want you back in the infirmary. Besides, I like having my bottom bunk back. It’s easier to torment you from it.”

That got a laugh out of Sam. “Maybe they’ll put us in solitary. Together.”

“Kinda defeats the purpose of solitary I think.” Castiel said though he knew exactly what Sam meant. With their telepathy, solitary wasn’t really solitary for them.

“Yeah.” That was all Sam got out before Gordon and two other screws walked in, each of them looking grimmer than the next. You’d think they’d gotten bad grades or set something on fire instead of just wearing a piece of cardboard on a string.

“Winchester, why am I not surprised. And you,” Gordon shook his head. “You gotta learn to stay away from trouble makers. What’s it gonna take? A broken leg? Two broken legs?”

Sam started to get up.

“Sit down!” Gordon shouted.

At the same time, another screw gripped Sam’s shoulder and shoved him down into the seat.

“May I speak, sir?” Castiel asked Gordon, trying to get it out before Sam opened his mouth, while also trying to make certain Gordon didn’t have more to say or yell about. 

Gordon used his entire hand to point toward Castiel. “That’s how we get permission to speak. Permission denied. Pull it out, your jewelry. _Both_ of you,” he ordered.

As soon as Sam started to pull the string over his head, one of the screws grabbed the cardboard amulet from him. When Sam turned, he saw Gordon advancing on Cas and bellowing at him to “Hurry the fuck up.” 

As soon as Cas pulled it out, Gordon grabbed it and tugged hard on it.

Castiel winced as the twine dug into his skin and tried to get his head ducked down and out, but it caught on his ear and hurt. _Break already!_ Castiel thought.

“Sonuvabitch!” Gordon cursed and released the twine only to hold his own hand for a minute, cursing a blue streak before he held it out in front of him and looked at it. It looked like at least one if not two of his fingers were broken. 

Castiel’s eyes widened. He quickly got the twine off from around his neck and held the cardboard out for Gordon to take. 

Sam started to laugh. He couldn’t help himself. And it didn’t matter that he was cuffed in the head repeatedly. _I will never, ever forget that. If I’m in solitary for a month, it’ll be worth it. You okay?_

“Think it’s funny? How ‘bout this?” Gordon lifted his leg and kicked Castiel right in the chest. “Do. You. Think. It’s. Funny?”

Sam’s eyes widened. He tried once more, to get up. “No. Stop. Stop it, you fuck. At least hear him out instead of going all Neanderthal on him, Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Permission to speak, granted. And the first thing I hear out of your mouth better be an apology for your friend here, who can’t get his tongue under control,” Gordon said to Castiel.

Castiel’s arms were over his chest. It hurt to breathe and he thought he’d felt something crack. “No, sir. Not funny,” he wheezed. “I’m sorry.” _Sam, fucking chill. You want to just shout out that hurting me pisses you off? He lives to piss you off._

Sam nostrils flared as he drew in deep breaths. As if he didn’t know that. God damn it. He wanted to punch the lights out of Gordon. If Cas weren’t the one who’d become Gordon’s punching bag, he would have.

“And I’m sorry Sam hasn’t learned how to ask for permission to speak when he’s neck deep in trouble.” He gave a warning glare to Sam. After taking a couple slow, careful breaths Castiel spoke again. “This combination of symbols... we’ve been experimenting with symbols that could protect the students against possession. This symbol on the cardboard, it seems to work, sir. It seems to prevent possession.”

“Experimenting. Did you get permission to experiment?” Gordon demanded, making quote signs with his fingers. “And what if your experiment is what’s causing all these possessions? Did you think about that?”

“So you’re saying you know what this symbol that you haven’t even looked at, is?” Sam demanded. Before he could open his mouth again, Gordon was in front of him, his closed fist slamming into Sam’s jaw with a sickening crack. 

“Sonova....” Sam saw white behind his eyes and thought his head was splitting, but he was used to pain. 

“No, sir. We didn’t.” Castiel said, trying to draw attention back to himself and away from Sam. “But I am absolutely certain these are not causing the onslaught of possessions. That started before we started combining symbols, or drawing symbols, or anything like that. We did this to try to help once all the possessions started, but when we tried to get permission to experiment, you were too busy to approach, sir. We believed your time was better spent at the exorcisms than dealing with us, sir.” The lies slid off Castiel’s tongue easier than he expected. Maybe Gordon was right, Sam was a bad influence. It took a lot for him to keep from smirking at that thought.

Gordon’s eyes pierced through Castiel, never looking away as he spoke. He turned his head to look at the other hunters. “Burn them. Now.”

“Why?” Sam demanded. “What does it hurt? Why can’t you look into--” A fist struck him in the face again. This time Sam couldn’t hold back. He was up and throwing himself at the screw, brawling with him and not pulling his punches. They’d taught him to fight, and he was gonna show them just how good of a student he really was.

“Grab him. Get him now,” Gordon roared as more hunters came into the theater to see what was causing the commotion.

“Sam!” Castiel cried. Why couldn’t Sam keep that temper under lock and key? _Sam, stop! Let it go! You’ll end up in the infirmary and in solitary. Stop it right now and apologize for hitting a teacher! Please, Sam!_ Castiel begged, but two hunters were already holding him back by his arms so he couldn’t help Sam physically.

“Bastards!” Sam tasted blood, his own, in his mouth. Beyond pain, he kept hitting and getting struck until he heard Castiel in his mind. It wasn’t immediate, but he started to calm. And then he was taking hits, just taking them, one after the other. Two screws pulled his arms behind his back, and then Gordon was in his face, and Sam just knew he was dead. 

_I love you._ Sam’s world went black.

When Castiel stopped struggling, when Gordon finally stopped beating an unconscious Sam, they should never have let go of Castiel’s arms. Castiel took down the two hunters beside him with ease, catching them by complete surprise. Then he launched himself at Gordon.

“If you killed him, you’re dead! You hear me? Dead!”

It took six hunters to pull Castiel off Gordon and that wasn’t until after Gordon collapsed and slid into unconsciousness. “Let me go!” Castiel screamed at them and wrestled to free himself, to get to Sam, but there were simply too many and they carried him out and tossed him into solitary. They’d let Nathan deal with his prize toy.

* * * 

The hours passed slowly for Castiel. He leaned against the wall in the cell, listening with his mind for Sam, calling to him every now and again. He’d never tried to talk to Sam from any further than across the room, or down the hall, or when they were next to each other in solitary, so he wasn’t even sure if he could, but the bastard screws weren’t telling him anything about Sam. 

It was hot in the small dark cell, but the heat didn’t really bother him all that much, and though he knew he should be thirsty and hungry, he was only mildly so. He picked at the weights on his legs, mindlessly tugging on one of them while he tried time and again to reach Sam telepathically, or even to overhear any of the other students. His telepathy seemed only to be tuned to Sam though, which he was grateful for, sort of. Hearing a whole bunch of other people’s thoughts didn’t really thrill him. 

When Nathan finally came, Castiel wasn’t permitted to speak. Any attempts only got him a fist in the face. Nathan read him the riot act for fooling around with the symbol, for rebelling against orders, and for beating the hell out of Gordon. Why didn’t Nathan punish him more thoroughly and publicly though? For laying a hand on a screw, let alone _Gordon,_ he should have been put on display while he was beaten within an inch of his life, a lesson to anyone else who tried such a thing. But Nathan was perfectly clear to the accompanying screws that Castiel was not to be touched, at least, not right now.

The look Nathan gave him made Castiel’s skin crawl. He could sense Nathan’s hungry anticipation, but he had no idea what Nathan was anxious and excited about. Why wouldn’t Nathan beat the hell out of him for what he did? Why would Nathan want him just locked up in solitary? Why would he deny the use of a protective symbol for the students? The symbol could completely eliminate future possessions! It made no sense.

Nathan was long gone before an answer slithered its way into Castiel’s brain, and it had to be wrong. The reason, the only thing that made sense to him... No, Nathan wouldn’t do that to them...to him...

*

 _You beat the hell out of Gordon. Oh my God, he looks like a mummy, all wrapped up in bandages._

“Turn your fucking eyes away.”

Still laughing, though he hurt everywhere, Sam mentally reached out for Castiel. _Heard you’re in solitary. Come on, don’t go falling asleep on me. Cas?_ He hadn’t been conscious for long, but the first thing he’d seen was Gordon’s state and Sam wasn’t even a little ashamed at how happy it made him. Some of the kids in the other beds in the infirmary told him what happened. With all the possessions, the infirmary was bursting at the seams.

 _Yes, I’m here. Yes, I’m in solitary, and yes I beat the hell out of him. He deserved it for pounding on you. Are you okay? Any broken bones?_ Castiel practically gushed, so relieved that Sam was awake and at least somewhat okay. He didn’t feel the least bit of remorse over what he’d done to Gordon.

 _I dunno. I have a cast on my arm,_ Sam said, looking down at himself. _I think every part of my face is swollen, but I’m mostly numb all over. Can’t believe you went Rambo on him._ Sam cracked a smile that hurt like hell. _Cut it out. Making me laugh. Jerk._

_You’re making yourself laugh. Jerk. One look in a mirror will do that though._ Castiel leaned his head back against the wall. _I’m glad you’re okay. I promised him I’d kill him if you weren’t okay. And I would have._

 _Look at you. You’ve lost your rule book. You totally shouldn’t hang out with me, I’m a bad influence._ Sam struggled to get into a more comfortable position. _Then again, I seem to get you beaten whether or not you join the fun._ A moment passed, then he asked more seriously. _Cas, are you okay? Don’t lie to me._

_You’re a horrible influence,_ Castiel confirmed. _Yes, I’m okay. I got punched a couple times for trying to get Nathan to listen to me, but no other punishment. Just...solitary._ Castiel looked around his small room though the room was pretty dark, just some cracks of light filtering in from around the door.

 _Really? That’s good. You’re not screwing around with him behind my back, are you?_ He teased, though he wore a slight frown. 

_Ewww. Just...ewwww. Now I need to wash my brain out._ Castiel said, making a face, even though no one could see it. _You’re the only one for me, well, at least until I find someone sexier._

_Wait. You think I’m sexy?_ Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise. _Ow... told you to stop making me laugh!_

 _What? You think I’m making out with you because I think you’re grotesque? Yes, I think you’re sexy. Do you think I’m sexy? And you’re the one making yourself laugh. Idget._ he said, using the term for idiot that he’d often heard Sam use.

_Hot. I think you’re hot. Where--_

“Who gave you permission to smile, Winchester? No talking, no laughing, nothing. You got it?”

Sam glared at the screw.

“I asked if you got it!”

Gritting his teeth, Sam braced. He wasn’t disappointed, the screw stalked up to his bed. Before the man laid a hand on him, Sam spoke. “You also told me not to talk.”

“Goddamit. I’ve had enough of--”

The lights started to flash and the screw left the infirmary just as there was an announcement about yet another possessed student.

Sam let out his breath. _I’m not allowed to smile. I feel like such a rebel, cause I’m smiling._

 _You are a serious rebel. Gonna start calling you Han Solo, and you know what sort of a crush I have on him, right? Now take your meds, go to sleep, and get over your carbonite suspended animation sickness thingy. And don’t you dare call me princess. Sexy._ Castiel found himself smiling even as he tried to ignore the announcements. Even as he tried to forget that Nathan didn’t want the kids protected by the symbols, and that Nathan hadn’t punished him and kept him in solitary for one reason.

He was bait.


	6. Chapter 6

The hunters didn’t have a clue about what they had in their possession, and that only made the demon laugh harder. Azazel had done his research. He’d had his minions dig deep into the boy’s past and then cross-correlated the information they’d found with the demons’ own history of battles. There was simply no doubt, especially after extracting information from those demons who’d possessed the boy upon occasion. Apparently, it was rather unpleasant to share a meatsuit worn by an angel. The only reason it was even possible to do so was because the angel’s Grace was damaged almost beyond recognition. That damage had, in turn, all but destroyed the angel’s memories. The angel didn’t even know what he was, though he still remembered his name. 

It was clear that Castiel’s Grace was slowly healing, and that the ‘boy’ was slowly regaining some of his angelic powers. Not his memories, not yet, but those would eventually return if his Grace was allowed to heal completely. 

Since the demons could barely sense Castiel was an angel even when in the same room as him, Azazel was fairly certain the other angels had no idea Castiel had survived his last battle. He laughed gleefully at the idea of having his very own angel meatsuit. An angel could travel in ways demons couldn’t, including time travel. This little angel could be wielded as a powerful weapon. 

No doubt it would be dangerous, getting so close to the angel’s Grace, and Azazel would have to make certain to keep damaging his Grace to the point that the angel would permanently forget everything. Then Azazel could educate the angel properly. He could turn the angel into something no-one, not demon nor angel nor man, had ever seen before. An angel who served a demon, one who would let a demon inhabit the same meatsuit and allow the demon to use his angelic powers. The king of Hell would fall, and he, Azazel, would take his place as rightful leader. 

Oh yes. And he would have the angel at his right hand, as well as a few hundred young men and women, all with demon-blood fostered powers that they would come into within a few short years of training. In the meantime, demons would possess them and be part of his army on Earth. They could educate these youths in how to wield their powers while their bodies were possessed, making certain those human souls became corrupted and served only Azazel.

The hunters were cooperative fools, bringing so many of the demon-blooded children together. Yes, they were tempting bait, and the hunters had successfully used them to trap many demons through the years. But in the end, it worked in Azazel’s favor and, in a sense, the hunters were unknowingly working for him. They trapped demons who were Azazel’s competitors and enemies, and got invaluable intelligence from them, about the location of the children they’d fed blood to and were grooming in furtherance of their own ambitions. More importantly, the hunters scooped up the children and brought them together in a handful of places, just like this one. Raising an army all at once would not be simpler. His brilliant plan was working perfectly, Azazel mused proudly.

Now, it was time to move. Before the angel got any stronger and before the idiot hunters began to figure out they were being used by Azazel. Having found out about the angel, Azazel could wait no longer. And after this school was taken, he would order his followers to begin to take over the children... soldiers... at all the other boys and girls ‘schools’ that the misguided hunters had established.

He gave the signal for select members of his demon army to move in, to begin taking over his children. And he moved in to take over the grand prize. Castiel, the damaged angel.

*

[2 Days Later]

With almost a quarter of the students either in the infirmary, on bed rest, or on light duty, Nathan had called an assembly out in the courtyard. The sun was sinking into the horizon and there was a light breeze, giving them much needed relief from the heat.

During the day they’d added a number of devil’s traps to those they’d already placed on and around the school property. Usually the traps were well hidden, meant to capture the unsuspecting demons. Now, with so many possessions, they were the only ‘safe’ walking paths. 

Nathan was pacing and calling out orders when he noticed some kids elbowing each other and pointing. He snapped his head towards the source of the commotion and frowned at the sight of Castiel and a few others kids walking around the building.

“Who let you out?” he demanded, cursing. “Elliot, get him back in the hole and grab them.” He pointed at Castiel’s companions. “I want to make examples of them. We’ve had far too much rebellion around here lately. It stops now.”

Elliot pointed at two older kids and ordered them to grab the kids next to Castiel, as he himself jogged toward the pale but strangely hardly bruised young man that was the object of his ire. 

Castiel looked at the approaching hunter, a smirk forming on his lips. With a wave of Castiel’s hand, Elliot was slammed into the side of the building so hard, he simply collapsed where he fell, unconscious. Castiel didn’t even change his leisurely pace as the older kids hesitated in their approach.

“Nathan, so _nice_ of you to gather everyone who’s uninjured all together in one tidy spot,” Castiel practically purred, his eyes momentarily changing from blue to gold. With a wave from both his hands the winds suddenly picked up to gale force, knocking many of the assembled students to the ground. The wind died immediately and the demon inside of Castiel, Azazel, laughed. 

“Power over the elements other than fire. That is a nice new talent I need to experiment with. Maybe some lightning.” He pointed at one of the hunters standing within the safety of a demons trap. It took a moment but out of nowhere a lightning bolt struck him dead on, the man collapsing, his flesh smoking.

“Children! Welcome your new teachers!” Azazel yelled, waving a hand toward the approaching black cloud of writhing smoke, visible on the horizon.

Students and hunters alike looked up and started to back toward the building. Hunters were calling out orders, simply making themselves targets of the lightning strikes. More and more of the students blinked and showed off inky black eyes, their comrades outside of the devil traps breaking line after line of the edges of the traps.

Calls of “salt” and “holy water” and “retreat” erupted from all over the courtyard.

*

Sam was sitting in a chair in the infirmary when he noticed the sudden silence. He wasn’t the only one, but it didn’t remain silent for long. A low, humming sound vibrated the very air around them, sending many of them to the windows.

“Holy shit! Look... look at that.”

“What is that? I’m scared.” A young boy started to cry and looked around. “Where’s Hunter Nathan?”

A few of the older kids exchanged glances. “Demon horde,” Sam confirmed. “I’ve heard about them, but....” He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the window where the blue sky was practically blotted out by the darkness sweeping towards them.

“What do we do?” one of the boys asked, his fear obvious.

“Ah... Let’s get the projectors--” Sam started, but then shook his head. “Not enough of ‘em. How about we get everyone to hole up in the gym. Get salt.”

Other ideas were being thrown around when a kid limped in, out of breath.

“Almost everyone’s possessed. And Castiel’s killing all the teachers. And--”

Sam didn’t hear the rest. “Get everyone into traps, they won’t follow.”

“I’ll get salt,” someone shouted, but Sam was out of the room, half-hopping, half-limping, but following the sounds of shouting outside.

*  
Castiel clawed at the walls the demon had erected almost effortlessly. No, no, no! He had to stop the demon, had to beat him back, but the demon only laughed at his feeble attempts.

“Castiel, relax. You hate these--what did you call them? Ah, yes--screws. I’m taking care of them for you. Swimming pools filled with M&Ms for you, I promise, when this is all done.”

“I don’t want your M&Ms. Get out!” Castiel screamed at the demon for the thousandth time. He tried once again to start an exorcism but the demon was able to derail his efforts easily.

Castiel watched, horrified, at the way the demon was killing the hunters, and sometimes kids who didn’t measure up to his needs. He’d never seen a demon use wind and lightning like this demon was doing.

“Of course not, Castiel. Demons don’t control the elements, though some of us are rather good with fire. Angels can control the elements though. Angels. Like. You.”

Castiel was stunned into silence, finally stammering a denial. 

Azazel laughed and with some deep concentration, finally managed to bring the angelic wings into the physical plane. 

The huge black wings swept forward and Azazel lifted off the ground a few feet. “Oh yes, Castiel, you are. You were. Now...now you’re mine. My puppet. As soon as we’ve got everything under control and I can rip your Grace to shreds once again, you won’t remember anything but me after that. Only me. You’ll obey me as you’ve always obeyed, because that’s what angels do. That’s their nature. You will obey me because you won’t know how not to. And when you start to get too powerful again, I’ll simply do it all over again, shredding your Grace and destroying your memories. It’s going to be a long and wonderful eternity we’ll spend together, I promise you.”

*  
Sam and few of the other older kids from the infirmary ran out and started sending or helping the others to get inside still intact devil’s traps, the more permanent ones that the possessed couldn’t simply scratch breaks into. 

Gordon was in the middle of the courtyard in a wheelchair, with his broken leg suspended. He was no longer shouting orders, but he managed a dark glare when Sam ran past him and ever-defiantly called out, “Not so happy about getting rid of the anti-possession symbols now, are you?”

Other kids, kids with black eyes, were going for Gordon.

One of the guys from the infirmary ran to him but hesitated.

“You think I’m badass now? You oughta see what kind of badass demon I’ll make,” Gordon shouted at him.

The boy grabbed the handle bars behind Gordon’s wheelchair and pushed, running toward one of the large engraved devil’s traps where others had gathered.

A lot of kids had pens out. They were drawing the symbol that Sam had shown them in the cover of the dark while in the infirmary. The symbol worked, it definitely worked.

As more kids protected themselves from possession, they stepped out of the traps and started to fight the possessed, or tried to exorcise the demons. Others brought out the projectors, and trapped kids, making exorcism easier and more successful.

Sam fought his way past some black-eyed kids and headed for Castiel, reaching out with his mind repeatedly, trying to raise him. When it seemed impossible, he started an exorcism ritual, mentally whispering the words and hoping they would reverberate in Castiel’s mind, whether or not the yellow-eyed demon wanted to hear it.

Castiel fought against Azazel, but felt as if he was beating against a concrete wall with his fists. He was still stunned at discovering he was an _angel._ The image of those black wings-- _his_ black wings--was almost too much for him to comprehend. 

The hunters who survived the initial attack had been firing cold iron bullets at him. One had stabbed him in the gut, before Azazel reached into the hunter’s chest and ripped out the guy’s heart. Azazel laughed off the wounds and Castiel feared it was hopeless. The hunters were losing. They’d never anticipated such a strong demon....

_Don’t be foolish, angel. Of course Nathan expected me. He just didn’t have any concept of how powerful a demon as old as I am could be. The prince of hell, soon to be the king? He had no idea at all. He thought he could control me, the fool._

Castiel was certain then that it _was_ hopeless. Until he saw Sam. 

Castiel reached out for Sam with all his strength, calling on his love for Sam, trying to contact Sam mentally to tell him what he’d learned. The demon hadn’t given any indication he knew Castiel could be telepathic.

_Sam! Can you hear me? Sam! Oh, God, please hear me, Sam!_

_I hear you, Cas. You gotta help me, say it with me. Please Cas,_ Sam pleaded before starting the ritual over again and dodging into the safety of a devil’s trap so he could concentrate without fear of attack. 

_Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus  
omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio  
infernalis adversarii, omnis legio,_ Sam mentally shouted the words, willing Castiel to join him.

Castiel tried, stumbling over the words when Azazel reacted violently and tried to disrupt them. So Castiel did the only thing he could. He focused on keeping the telepathic connection open, forcing the demon to hear the words, and reinforcing the words when he could.

_Omnis congregatio et secta diabolica.  
Ergo draco maledicte  
et omnis legio diabolica  
adjuramus te.  
Cessa decipere humanas creaturas,  
eisque aeternae Perditionis venenum propinare._

Azazel was becoming frenzied, tearing at Castiel’s mind, trying to shut off the words, trying to stop the flow, but he had no idea where the words were originating. Castiel fought with all his strength but felt as if the demon was shredding a part of him as the demon showed Castiel over and over the killings, as Azazel began killing the bodies of even boys inhabited by demons. 

"They’ll die when the demons are exorcised, they’ll all die! Your fault!" Azazel screamed at him, ethereal claws digging into and shredding Castiel’s soul.

 _Vade, Satana, inventor et magister  
omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis.  
Humiliare sub potenti manu dei,  
contremisce et effuge, invocato a  
nobis sancto et terribili nomine,  
quem inferi tremunt.  
Benedictus deus. Gloria patri._

A thick black cloud of smoke erupted from Castiel’s mouth as the demon was forcibly expelled. Castiel screamed as it left, screamed as the blood from the gunshots started to flow, as the knife wound to his gut began dripping blood, as he felt every injury he’d received while the demon was in him.

When the last of the smoke left him, Castiel collapsed. _Love you,_ he told Sam before the darkness enveloped him.

“Noooo!” Sam shouted and ran out of the devil’s trap, appearing unaware of the war zone around him, of the screams and shouts of “he’s dead, he’s dead,” or the numbers of people collapsing and of the exorcisms still going on around him. His focus was on Castiel’s collapsed figure, his heart pounding furiously in his chest, fear filling him.

Once he reached Castiel, he dropped to his knees. A sound, much like a wail of horror, broke from him when he saw all the blood. Sliding an arm under Castiel’s shoulders, he lifted him part way up. “Cas. Open your eyes. Talk to me. Cas!” He shouted and pleaded, but in his mind, he only heard silence, and it scared the hell out of him.

* * * 

Twelve were dead, including five hunters. There were so many wounded that Sam wasn’t allowed to wait around the infirmary and instead was put to work. There were kids to comfort, people to patch up, blood to clean, and new traps to set.

Worst of all, there were graves to dig.

* * *

The circle of boys standing at Elliot’s grave had their heads bowed as Nathan said some words to put the boy to rest. Burnings were unnecessary here, in the salt plains, just because the bodies were interred with so much salt. 

Nathan cleared his throat and pointed at two boys to start filling the grave, when a couple of screws came out of the school building, carrying yet another sheet wrapped body. Sam frowned, watching for another few minutes as they put the body into one of the more distant graves. 

“Who is it? Who else died?” Someone else asked the question Sam couldn’t bring himself to.

The screw standing over the open grave dropped a pair of shiny running shoes into it. “He loved those damned shoes.”

Every fiber in Sam’s body rebelled. He ran to the grave, jumping inside. “No, no!” he shouted as they grabbed and dragged him out. “No, Castiel no....” 

Sam’s world became red with rage at the screws who wouldn’t let them wear the protective symbol, and black with despair. He’d found one person in the world who loved him, who would always have stood by him, and who made this life a little more bearable. Now he was gone. He was gone.

“It your fault, your fault! Goddamn you all, it’s all your fault!” 

They dragged him to the hiking trail and left him to rant and rave, and to scream and cry, until he was so hoarse, he could barely whisper. 

It was the early hours of the morning when he finally dragged himself back to the school. He didn’t climb up to his bunk. Instead, he crawled into Castiel’s bed and hugged his pillow tight, smelling Castiel’s scent on it. He had no more tears to give and no sounds would come from a throat already raw from his cries, but his body shook with dry, painful sobs.

 

* * *

[One week later] 

“Are you fucking nuts?” Ollie jumped off his bunk and blocked Sam’s way. “He’s dead and gone, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Sneaking around at nights isn’t gonna help.”

Every day, every night, Sam had mentally called to Castiel and, even though he’d gotten nothing back, he still couldn’t accept it. 

“How do we know he’s dead?” Sam demanded.

“Because we _buried_ him,” Ollie answered.

“Did you see him? Did you see his face? Everyone else, we saw,” Sam countered. “But they planted him in the ground and wouldn’t let us--”

“Because he’d been shot and knifed and God knows what else so many times. Get a hold of yourself, Winchester, you’re going to get us all in trouble. Or they’re going to send you to a psych ward.” Ollie moved again, stopping Sam from going around him.

“You believe that? That that’s why they wouldn’t show him to us.”

Ollie nodded.

“And you want me to stop.”

“Of course I do, you dumb shit,” Ollie said. Winchester had kinda grown on him and he couldn’t deny he liked the guy’s spirit and determination, but this thing with Castiel had sent him off his rocker.

“Fine. Then help me dig him out. If it’s him, I stop.”

“Sam--”

“If it’s him, Ollie, this stops.” Sam locked gazes with Ollie. “He was your friend, too. Don’t you want to _know?_ ”


	7. Chapter 7

[1 week later]

Every night after the night they’d found only a rolled up carpet in Castiel’s grave, Sam had gone searching. The school had basements and sub-basements that none of the students had known about.

Today, he was searching a new area. Ollie had been asking around and found out there were secret rooms in what appeared like roofing when you looked up from ground level. 

Sam had climbed up to the roof from the outside of the building and found a crawl space that got him inside. Ollie had been right. There were doors all over the place, doors to crazy little rooms. Some of them empty, some filled with weapons or books, some with human remains, or other things that Sam knew could only be identified by researching the demon reference guides.

He swore to himself that if he didn’t find anything tonight, he was putting plan B into action. He was gonna drug Nathan, get him into the exorcism theater, lock it up and torture the truth out of him. He was going to find out what happened to Castiel or they’d have one dead screw on their hands. And then he’d go after the next screw, and the next.

*

The voice he’d been hearing in his head was louder, closer. He was afraid to answer it. He was crazy. They told him he was crazy and the nightmares he had only confirmed what they said. So he’d stayed silent, all this time. 

But now, there was someone out in the hallway and he was very thirsty and hungry. He stared through the bars of his cage at the metal door, glancing at the table with the gallon of water and stack of apples. He liked apples. A lot.

He looked down at the chains around his wrists and ankles chewed his lower lip indecisively - he wasn’t supposed to speak unless spoken to. Finally, picking up the long-empty plastic mug, he threw it at the door, hoping whoever was in the hallway would open the door and give him some water. And maybe a piece of apple. He’d be happy with just a small slice....

*

Startled by the sound, Sam pressed his back up against the wall and waited. When ten minutes passed and nothing happened and he heard no other sounds, Sam crept forward until he reached a door. 

This one was different. It was metal, and it had hatches at the top and at the bottom.

Was _something_ in there? 

He’d seen enough remains to know they brought things here. But not only things. People, too.

Reaching for the top hatch, he took a deep breath and slowly pulled it open.

It was dark in the room, save for the silvery light of the moon coming through the skylight. That light showed someone was in the corner, someone wearing white, but he couldn’t make out much else. 

Grabbing the flashlight he’d tucked into his waistband, Sam aimed it at the corner.

The sudden light startled the prisoner and had him covering his face and whimpering a little. He curled his midnight black wings around himself, afraid. He just wanted some water. He didn’t want more questions or more torture. He swore he didn’t know when he got the wings and it hurt when they took feathers and blood from them. He didn’t remember anything but flashes of nightmares of people dying, of his hands red with blood. He was sorry people died. So sorry. If he had indeed killed them, he was sure he hadn’t meant to.

“Hello?” Sam tried to make out the dark shape that had swallowed up the person in white. “Who’s in there?” he demanded, pressing his face against the grate. The shape moved. The darkness moved. He knew that shape... he ought to know that shape. It teased his mind. Narrowing his gaze, he whispered loudly. “What are you?”

“Thirsty?” the prisoner whispered softly, hoping he wouldn’t be struck for speaking or for asking for water. He slowly pulled one wing back, looking towards the bright light fearfully.

“Cas?” Reaching up, Sam slipped his fingers through the grate and peered harder. “Castiel! It is you! ….Mostly,” he added, his eyes warily moving over the large wings. They didn’t look as _evil_ now as they had when the demon who’d possessed him had shown them to him. God... he hoped it was Cas, and not some demon inside him. “It’s me. Sam.”

When someone introduced themselves, he was supposed to present himself, stand so they could look him over. He trembled as he pushed himself to his feet, the chains rattling, and he forced his wings as closed as he could get them. There were also chains around them, preventing him from being able to either stretch his wings out, or fully close them. The chains on his wings hurt the worst, but he had already learned not to complain. Yes, that was the second lesson he had learned, right behind not speaking unless spoken to.

“Hello, sir,” he said quietly, his gaze focused on the floor. “Tell me when you wish for me to turn around or spread my wings.”

“Cas...” When Cas didn’t answer, Sam passed the light over Castiel’s figure once more, his nostrils flaring as he saw the chains. “I’m not a screw,” he said. “Don’t you know me?” He tugged on the door and was surprised when it easily pulled open.

He took a few steps and came up to the cage inside the room, closing his hands around the bars. “Come closer, you’ll see me better,” Sam said.

Castiel’s brows furrowed and he tilted his head. “I do not know what a screw is, sir.” He gave a small frightened huff. When he moved closer to the bars, it usually meant pain was ahead. Still, he knew better than to disobey. He shuffled forward, he gaze still focused on the floor. “Am I close enough, sir?”

“Who did this? Who did this to you?” Sam demanded, his anger boiling over at the state that Castiel was in but he forced himself to simmer down quickly. He had to help Cas first. _Then_ he could get some satisfaction from beating the whoever was responsible.

“I...I don’t understand the question, sir. Who did what to me? I have...I have apparently only gained these wings recently, but I don’t remember anything of when I lacked them. If...if someone gave me these wings, as I have told you before, I don’t know who, or how, or why,” he said slowly waiting for the pain to start, waiting for the chains to start making him jerk and twist and scream as fire ran through his body. “Did you want me to...move closer?”

“You’re close enough. But not close enough,” Sam answered, just barely holding back a sob. “I thought you were dead. But I felt you were alive. And then... the empty grave and I knew you were alive, but deep down, I knew you could still be dead and...” He felt the tears tracking down his face and sniffed. “Sorry, I know, you need me to be strong.”

What the man said didn’t make any sense to him, about being alive but being dead, but not. They often asked him things that didn’t make any sense to him. So he just chose to stay quiet and braced himself for the pain.

From the way Castiel cringed, Sam knew exactly what he was expecting. “You said you’re thirsty. I’ll get you water. Don’t tell anyone you saw me, that you talked to anyone, okay?” He was about to walk away, but he just couldn’t. “Can you get closer? Let me touch your face,” he said, wiggling his fingers for Cas to see.

Castiel didn’t question, simply moved close enough for the stranger to do what he wanted. He clenched his jaw, hoping the man wouldn’t hurt him and practically held his breath. 

Sam cupped the side of Castiel’s face and ran his thumb over his lips. A lump grew in his throat. “I thought I’d never see you again. I thought you might be gone. Cas, I’m not gonna hurt you. Never hurt you,” he whispered.

Castiel closed his eyes, still trembling at the stranger’s touch, but slowly dared to lift his eyes. He saw the young man’s tears. “Are you hurt? Why are you crying?” he asked softly, lifting his hand as if to reach through the bars and touch the man’s face, but pulling up short, his outstretched fingers closing into a loose fist and he dropped his hand back to his side.

“I’m happy.” Sam tried to smile. “I’ve been looking for you. You don’t remember, but we were... we are friends. I’d die for you and you’d die for me, that kinda friends. I’ll get the water,” he said again, reluctantly turning away.

Then he saw the table, with apples piled on it and a jug of water. _Fucking bastards_. His glance slid to Castiel, but Cas gave no indication he’d heard Sam’s mental cursing. Looking around for something to put the water in, Sam saw the plastic mug lying near the door. Filling it up to the brim he brought it back to the cage, along with an apple.

 _The voices were back._ Cas hid his surprise with effort, feeling even more confused when he realized the voice he heard in his head reminded him of this man’s voice. Perhaps...perhaps if they had been friends, perhaps that’s why the voices in his head sounded like Sam’s.

He kept his face neutral as Sam approached with the water and apple, fully prepared for Sam to drink the water and eat the apple in front of him. “Did I...did I have my wings when we were friends? And I thought tears...tears mean pain. How can they mean...happiness?”

“I dunno. You’re the philosopher.” Sam threaded his arm through the bars and lifted the mug. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I swear.” Once Cas took it from him, Sam reached out and lightly brushed his fingers over Cas’ arm. “I don’t know. They weren’t visible,” he said.

Castiel hesitantly took the cup of water but quickly drank it all down before the electrical shocks started. He would always drop his mug when that happened and get beaten for it. Though Hunter Gordon wasn’t here, and that was when it happened most often. Still, no sense risking it. He didn’t want to waste a precious drop.

After finishing the water, he set the cup on the floor, just outside the bars. “Thank you very much for the water, sir.” He didn’t know what to think about Sam’s answer about his wings. But then, if he’d always had them, why would Hunters Nathan and Gordon and the others be so insistent he tell them how he got them?

 _My head hurts,_ he thought with a sigh so tired of trying to figure out all the things that made no sense to him.

 _I’ve got aspirin. Mine hurts all the time, now._ Sam was already searching his back pocket when his eyes snapped up and met Castiel’s. _I heard you. You... You haven’t been answering me._ He cocked his head slightly, his eyes questioning Castiel’s.

Castiel stared at him wide-eyed. _No, Castiel, you’re crazy. They say you’re crazy. You must be crazy. You hear voices. That’s crazy. No one hears voices who isn’t crazy. And probably dangerous. Why else would I be locked up in chains and have nightmares about demons?_

“You’re not crazy. Okay, maybe a little... but they probably drove you to it,” Sam said. “You and I, we could hear each other, in our heads. Before your wings became visible. And now. I’ve been... God, I’ve been calling to you every day, every night. It’s my voice in there.” _Do you hear me? My voice._ Sam stared intently at Castiel. _Answer me. I’ve been so... I’ve been lonely,_ he admitted. 

Castiel slowly nodded. “I hear you,” he whispered. “I started hearing you a few days after I woke up here. I was...afraid to answer you. I haven’t told any of the others that I could hear you. I didn’t think you were real or if you were, I was afraid...afraid you were one of the ones they ask me about. Or maybe the one who had made me this way.”

All those days and nights when he’d worried, Cas had been right here. Right here, not answering him. Cause he was afraid. 

“Sit down with me,” Sam said, lowering to the floor and sitting close to the bars. “You have to keep me a secret, don’t tell them anything. Do you know my name?” he asked.

Castiel sat down with him, adjusting and re-adjusting his wings to try to get them comfortable. He found it was most comfortable to sit on his knees. He glanced at the apple, wishing for a bite, but less so now that he’d had the water. “Yes, I know your name. You said it was Sam. That is still your name, yes?” he asked cautiously, unsure if the young man was trying to bait him.

Sam nodded. “How far back do you remember?” Maybe he remembered his time at the school, before Sam arrived? It was possible Cas had only lost his most recent memories. 

Castiel frowned and shook his head. “Here. This room. I have always been here. I guess that would be several days? Is that...a long time?” He didn’t think it was, he thought it was barely a breath of time, not even a blink of an eye, but it was all that he remembered clearly. Everything else was a mixed-up hazy set of images he wasn’t sure he could even call memories.

“No. It’s hardly any time. Eat your apple, you need your strength. Tomorrow, I’ll bring you real food,” Sam promised, holding the apple out to him. “And I’ll work on a plan to get you out of here. But you gotta get a little better first.” 

Castiel shook his head. “If I am to keep you secret, I can’t eat the apple. They will know. Hopefully they won’t notice the water missing from the jug. I can wait. They will feed me in a few hours. If not, then you will bring me food the next time you come. And more water. And...” Castiel’s brow furrowed. “...and chocolate. Chocolate that isn’t...lame?”

“M&M’s.” Sam gave a nod. _Is there anything I can do for you now?_ He couldn’t take his eyes off Cas, though there was a big hole in his heart. It hurt that Cas didn’t remember him. What if his memories were gone forever, like his memories from before Nathan found him?

“M&Ms?” Castiel asked. “Ah, those are chocolate?” At Sam’s nod he smiled. _Can I...hold your hand a minute?_ he asked. The others never let him touch them and he wanted...he just wanted to know what it felt like. To actually touch someone else.

 _I would love to hold your hand_ , Sam smiled and stretched his arm through the bars, taking Cas’ hand. _You always held my hand when I needed it._ Leaning his face against the metal, he closed his eyes and remembered being teased by Ollie. _We had a lot of dreams. Plans, you and I. I hope you’ll remember them._

After Sam took his hand Castiel tentatively reached out with his other hand and began lightly touching Sam’s face, running his fingers over Sam’s lips, along his cheeks, over his closed eyes, practically holding his breath the entire time. _I hope I remember them, too. Did I ever tell you whether I could fly? I mean, do these wings...work?_

 _No. I mean, they had weights on your legs. I guess you’d lifted off the ground before, but no, you didn’t think you could fly. And you didn’t know you had wings._ Sam started to cry. He couldn’t hold it back anymore, he just held Castiel’s hand and let him touch him, as tears fell from his eyes.

 _You are...happy...again?_ Castiel asked, squeezing Sam’s hand and brushing away the glimmering tears with his thumb, occasionally running his fingers through Sam’s hair or continuing to gently caress his face. 

_Yeah. Don’t make me laugh, jerk._ Sam smiled through his tears. 

Castiel squeezed Sam’s hand again and shook his head. _You are strange, Sam. And you don’t even have wings to help make you strange._

* * *

[Three days later]

Sam sneaked into the room and closed the door behind him. _Wonder what’s in the backpack_ he said, dropping to the floor and starting to unpack it. 

Castiel hurried over to the bars, wrapping his fingers around the cold iron. _You don’t know? Did you steal it?_ he asked, his blue eyes gazing unwaveringly on the pack. _You have long, delicate fingers,_ he noted almost absently. 

_I do not. Jerk._ Sam huffed as he got the sandwich out and passed it through the bars. “Save that one for dessert, it’s peanut butter and jelly. Here, ham and cheese,” he said, giving Castiel a second sandwich. Then he started pulling out the rest: an orange, some packs of M &Ms and a carton of milk. “And yeah, as a matter of fact, I did steal it.”

He’d been getting bolder and bolder, caring less about the consequences. The screws had a lot on their hands now anyway. A lot of the students were wearing the symbol to prevent possession and were talking back to the screws. They’d lost some credibility and had at least cut out the unnecessary beatings. 

_Yes. You do,_ Castiel insisted about his fingers, but as soon as Sam gave him the orange, he bit into it, not bothering to peel it. _I like these. Though the peel is a little bitter._ He looked at the box of milk but had no idea what milk was so set it aside and sniffed the ham and cheese, then the peanut butter sandwich. _I’ve had these. I like these too. Are you hungry? Would you like some?_ he offered, orange juice slipping down onto his chin. His black wings shifted restlessly, opening, straining against the chains, and then settling back down only to try to stretch back out a moment later.

“No, it’s for you. You need to regain your strength.” He watched Castiel’s wings for a while, then asked, “Can you put them away? Do they fold away or... go invisible?”

Castiel glanced at his wings and shook his head as he finished off his orange and licked his fingers clean. “I can’t stretch them out because of the chains. I can’t fold them all the way down because of the chains. The chains have all sorts of strange symbols engraved on them too, though they don’t really feel special. Still, I think if the chains weren’t on them I might be able to do something with my wings.”

Opening the baggie, Castiel pulled out the sandwich and began devouring it. “What do they want with me, Sam? Will they ever let me go? What do other people with wings do, out there in the world?” He waved up toward the skylight and the dark sky beyond.

“No, I don’t think they’ll let you go. They told everyone you’re dead.” He pulled the hand saw out of his backpack. “But... I’m not giving them a choice. Don’t be afraid, I’m just going to cut one side of the links in a couple places, so when it’s time, it won’t take us long to break you out.” Reaching for the chains on the ground, he pulled them close.

About to start sawing, he found himself stretching his other hand and running his fingers over Castiel’s wingtips. He’d expected a chill to run through him, or to get the creeps like at the thought of a snake slithering across his body. Castiel’s wings did anything but give him the creeps. They were soft and dry and he must have imagined the warmth running up the length of his arms. “Sorry,” he mumbled, then started sawing on the iron. 

Castiel shivered at the brush of Sam’s fingers over his feathers. _You can touch all you want,_ Castiel told him, feeling a slight heat in his cheeks and unsure why.

 _Doesn’t it hurt? I saw the blood,_ he said, his glance going to the areas where the locks rubbed against the edges of Castiel’s wings, and the bald areas, where feathers had been plucked off. He worked as gently as he could, lifting his eyes once, and seeing the heat in Castiel’s eyes. Something he’d missed so much. And yet when his gaze dropped to Cas’ mouth, he saw no reaction.

 _Your touch doesn’t hurt. It felt good. Warm. And, uhm, kinda gave me strange tingles in places I’ve never had tingles before._ He didn’t say anything about the areas rubbed raw, or the tender skin where feathers had been harshly tugged free, or the areas they incised to take small pieces of his skin to study in the lab. They hurt, yes, but Sam wouldn’t hurt him like that. He was certain of that.

Sam chuckled. “Yeah, I think I always gave you tingles in strange place. You just, you wouldn’t admit it. You give me tingles too, Cas.” Looking down, he continued to work on the chain, focusing on it.

After a while, he started telling Castiel about his day, as he’d gotten into the habit of doing. “We had a guest screw today. A girl,” he gave a snort. “Her name’s Jo. Jo Harvelle. Real pretty, but an asshole just like the others.”

“Girl?” Castiel said. “I don’t know what that...no, wait. Anna...dammit. I lost it. Did I know someone named Anna? A girl...but not.” He rubbed his temples with annoyance. “Girls give me headaches I think. And why would a girl screw be any less of an asshole than a guy screw?”

“I dunno,” Sam shrugged. “You’re right. A screw’s a screw.” He hadn’t heard Cas talk about anyone named Anna. Maybe she’d been an old crush that he’d either not told Sam about, or really couldn’t recall. “Got this one, can you turn a little?” He started working on the next link. “I’ll have to wait until Thursday to steal lock picks. Then I can get in there and get you out,” he said. “So three days, and we’re out of here.”

God, he had so much to do. He had to get backpacks filled with supplies. Plant fake trails for the screws to follow. And he’d have to let Ollie in on the secret, so he could create some commotion if needed.

“Not like I’m going anywhere,” Castiel said with a shrug as he picked up a bag of M&Ms and popped a few in his mouth. He liked watching Sam work up a sweat, he decided, though he wasn’t really sure why. More tingles, that was why, he finally decided, and watched Sam appreciatively, smiling at him now and again. Yes, Sam definitely gave him real nice tingles and he couldn’t wait until he was free and he and Sam could explore more of these tingles that made him get all warm inside.

* * * 

Castiel smiled and got to his feet when he heard the approaching footsteps. It was a little early for Sam, but he figured Sam wanted to get him out of the cage and chains. _Guess what, Sam? I remember us kissing! And as soon as you get me out of here, I’m going to show you I remember,_ Castiel thought to him happily.

Before Sam ever answered, the door opened and Castiel fell back away from the bars and glanced toward the skylight. It was suppertime! What was Nathan doing here this late? Castiel immediately dropped his gaze to the floor but his wings seemed to have a mind of their own and shifted restlessly as unease filled his gut.

Nathan approached the cage and watched Castiel for a long moment. “You should have accepted my offer. Look at you now,” he said, his eyes flashing yellow just as the chained angel looked up

Castiel gasped and stepped back, further away from the bars. Memories flashed through his mind, memories of a darkness inside him, making him do things, or at least, using his body to do things. It felt the same, that darkness that had been inside him, it felt the same as the darkness he felt now. “Who...what are you?” he whispered.

“You know me. _Intimately_ ,” Nathan answered. “And you’ll know me again. This time your telepathic friend won’t be able to help you. Tell me who he is and I’ll let him live.”

Castiel struggled to recall as memories slipped through his fingers like water. “...Azazel. You’re Azazel. And you think I’m...I’m an angel?” Castiel glanced at his wings then back at the demon. “Dunno what you’re talking about. That was all me that kicked you out. And I’ll do it again. I’m an angel. I can do anything,” he boasted with a confidence he didn’t feel.

“If you weren’t crippled. Maybe. Maybe not,” Nathan answered. “But your Grace is nearly torn to shreds and you’re just a shell. One that will fit me just right. Now give me a name. Is it a hunter? One of your teachers? No, most likely one of my psychic kids.” Grabbing the chains near the edge of the cage, Nathan tugged hard. “Let’s get the inevitable over with.”

“I won’t tell you anything. You believe whatever you want to believe,” Castiel snapped, but when the demon grabbed the chains, fear enveloped Castiel and he struggled to keep his footing and his distance from the demon. It took everything inside him not to call out to Sam, not to even think of his love, fearing the demon might be able to pick it right out of his brain.

“Oh, you’ll tell me _everything_. Everything I need to know, and more. I can get his name from you in less time than it takes to perform a ritual. And then he’s dead. Last chance. Give me a name, and he lives, or....” Once again, his eyes flashed as he tugged on the chains, his eyes piercing through Castiel’s. “No?”

Nathan laughed and stepped back. The door of the cage burst open for him.

In three strides, Nathan was in the cage and in Castiel’s face. When nothing happened, his eyes narrowed. Grabbing handfuls of Castiel’s thin cotton shirt, he ripped it off his body and shouted with rage when he saw the symbols drawn all over his chest.

“Stupid boy.” Putting his arm out, palm facing Castiel, he caused Castiel’s flesh to blister and burn off. 

Castiel screamed in pain, falling back from the demon. “Won’t...won’t do any good,” he gasped, he wings fluttering and straining against the chains. “Engraved buttons. Swallowed. Inside me,” Castiel said, lying through his teeth, but Sam had drawn the protective symbol multiple times on his back as well as his chest, and on the inside of his arm, his inner thigh, and even under his wings. The demon would have to burn every last bit of skin and feathers off of him to find them all, which would surely kill him and then he’d die and the demon wouldn’t have any angel to control. 

“No!” Nathan roared, burning off more flesh each time his attempt to possess Castiel was met with an invisible wall of resistance. “I will tear the contents of your stomach out. I will have you. There’s no escape. Not for you.”

* * *

Hearing Cas tell him he remembered their kissing, Sam felt his cheeks warm. Before he could mentally answer, the roar of a dozen cars and screaming kids interrupted his thoughts. Vehicles were driving toward the school from all directions, creating dust clouds in their wake.

On the school grounds, it was like Armageddon Day all over again. The obedient students, the ones more afraid of the screws than of possession, had not used the sharpies to mark symbols on their bodies, and were quickly getting possessed. Those who had protected themselves from possession were the targets of those who were possessed.

Even those running to the devil’s traps were not safe. Chairs, nails, lockers, pencils... everything was a projectile, aimed, cocked and hurtling through the air to cause pain or drive them out of the traps.

There were skirmishes everywhere outside. In the cafeteria, where most students were gathered for their evening meal, a sudden silence descended when hunter Gordon was pushed down to his knees by two possessed students, one of them holding a machete to Gordon’s throat.

“Telepath, identify yourself. Now,” one of the demons demanded.

The stunned students stared and threw questioning looks at each other.   
Except for Sam. He knew exactly what they were talking about. _They’re back._ He took a few deep breaths, trying to put together a plan for getting Castiel out of there.

“No one? I will kill him,” the student with the machete said. 

“Fuck you. Fuck _them_ ,” Gordon said, struggling. “Whatever they want, don’t give it to them. Fight. Fight!” he shouted, before the machete bit into his throat and he was gurgling on his own blood.

The silence broke as the students and hunters rose to obey Gordon’s call to arms. 

Sam started for the door, even as black-eyed kids moved to surround him. He wouldn’t let the yellow-eyed demon get to Cas again. Or he would die trying to save him. _I love you, Castiel_. 

*

Castiel tugged frantically at the chains. Sam had cut through some of the links, surely he could break the remaining links on his own, especially if he was a god-damned angel. But every time he tried to get leverage, he was thrown into the bars, or a part of his flesh or his wings blistered and blackened. He cried out in pain. His wings...he just needed his fucking wings freed, he was sure if his wings were freed he’d be...more than he was now.

He started an exorcism but was thrown against the bars, this time the chains wrapping around him, holding his arms and legs outstretched as a chain slithered around his throat.

“I’m going to finish burning off every inch of your skin, tearing out every one of your feathers, then I’ll eviscerate you, emptying your gut of any vestiges of those pathetic symbols. By then your telepath will have been possessed or killed. And then I’ll take you. I’ll lock myself inside you and heal up your oh so comfortable meatsuit. Afterwards? We’ll take over Hell. Maybe even the world. And any time you start getting too smart or too strong, I’ll just rip your tattered Grace to shreds again. You’ll become my malleable little puppet over and over and you won’t remember a thing. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. Your pathetic piece of angel ass is mine, Castiel. Accept it.” 

_I love you, Castiel._ Sam’s voice was plain in his head. Memories of Sam being beaten horribly by Gordon, flashed in his mind. _I love you._ He’d feared Sam was dead, that they’d killed him. Sam had feared he’d die, told Castiel he loved him. This time, he sensed the same thing, that Sam feared he wouldn’t make it.

 _“No!”_ Castiel screamed. He wouldn’t lose Sam again. Not ever again. His muscles bunched and the iron chains practically shattered as he ripped his arms free. Burnt flesh began to renew itself and white feathers replaced black ones that had been lost. _Sam! Where are you?_ he demanded. The chains still held his wings hostage even as Nathan fell back, startled by the sudden unholy outburst from Castiel.

 _Coming. Coming as fast as I can. Hold on!_ Although Sam tried to escape the demons, he was surrounded. He was going to die. He was going to die and fail Castiel, leaving him unprotected.

Something … a veil ….tore inside Sam. Energy surged through his system and he found himself stretching his arms out, his fingers curled slightly as he focused the energy on a demon within a possessed boy.

The possessed student started to cough. Each cough produced black smoke. And then the smoke inside his body seemed to be forced out all at once. 

Sam turned slightly and it happened again, and again. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.


	8. Chapter 8

After he cut a path through the possessed students, Sam ran outside and climbed up the side of the building, using the familiar ledges and handholds to get to the roof, and then crawled into the roof space. 

He didn’t stop to think or to assess the situation, like a good hunter would have. Running, he flung open the door and saw Nathan tugging on the chains. 

“No more, no more you asshole,” he shouted, grabbing Nathan and wheeling him around, before an invisible force threw him up into the air. He hit the wall and fell down to the ground, rolling away from Nathan as it became clear that the screw was possessed. 

Castiel had been so focused on Sam that he had left himself open to an attack from Azazel/Nathan. His legs and wings had still been entangled and the demon had gotten chains from his wings to wrap around his arms so if he tugged on them, they tightened in his wings, threatening to break them. His gut had been sliced into by an invisible force and he was trying to stop the gushing blood when Sam reached the room and pulled Azazel away. It gave him the moment he needed to catch his breath.

He managed to all but stop the blood flow from the wound, but Sam getting slammed into the wall distracted him from healing himself any further. “No!” he yelled at Azazel and glaring at the demon. He was startled when the demon was flung into the bars so hard some of the bars bent. He’d done that. Cas knew he’d done that, even though he had no idea how.

“Sam! Sam! Are you okay?” Castiel asked as he struggled to get free of the chains. “Fuck! I can’t get my wings free, dammit!” he practically seethed. The chains rattled and quivered but they didn’t break.

Sam pushed himself up. _Don’t hurt yourself. I’ve got this._ He gave the demon a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, and he put his hand out, calling on the powers he’d found, concentrating hard. “Go to Hell.”

“Who do you think gave you those powers, Sammy?” Nathan sneered, his eyes glowing golden. “Me. You are one of _my_ children. That’s _my_ blood in your veins. I killed your mother, I convinced your family to put you in the camp, to leave you with strangers who would train you for me. I’ve been pulling the strings of your life since before you were born.” A cruel smile came to his lips. “And I’ll be happy as a lark to go to Hell. As soon as I’m inside that angel’s meatsuit and you...you always were one of my favorites. I’ll let you live. I’ll let you have you sweet fuckable angel all to yourself just about whenever you want, if you stand at my right hand. Then the world will be lollipops and ice cream sundaes from then on. Or you can say ‘no’ and I’ll kill your family and shred that angel’s Grace so beyond recognition that he’ll never remember you again. What’s it going to be, Sammy?”

So many thoughts jumbled up in Sam’s mind. He hated his dad, but not so much that he wanted him dead. And Castiel. An angel. Demons lied, they always lied. And yet... angel made more sense than demon. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t have a family, and I don’t know what a ‘grace’ is.” He also knew that the energy wasn’t working against this demon, that he was powerless to drive him out of Nathan’s body. _What should I do? Cas?_

_Can you get my wings free?_ Castiel asked. _Can you use your...mojo and get them free?_

What mojo? He’d been able to expel demons, and it wasn’t working on yellow-eyes. Sam’s gaze met and searched Castiel’s eyes. 

“Say goodbye, boys,” Nathan said, just as a red light bathed Castiel.

“No!” Shouting, Sam tumbled past the demon and grabbed the chains around Castiel, finding the links he’d sawed and breaking one, then another, and another, cursing as he tried to detangle them.

Before he was done, he felt the demon grab him by the hair on his head, lift him off the ground, and then he was thrown against the wall again, face first. “Cas... get out, run!” he shouted, uncertain if he’d broken enough of the links to set Cas free. _Don’t look back. Just run._

“Sam!” Castiel yelled, seeing the smear of red on the wall. He felt his heart pounding hard in his chest and fury welling up inside of him. He twisted around, finally able to turn enough to see the remaining chains, and pulling himself of the last few chains Sam hadn’t yet broken. 

He faced the demon, his blue eyes blazing. “Goodbye,” he hissed and stepped forward, slamming his palm on Nathan’s forehead. Brilliant light surrounded Nathan as Azazel screamed his defiance...to no avail.

Nathan collapsed at Castiel’s feet. 

Castiel pulled his wings in, grateful he could fold them down all the way, only to have the wings simply...vanish. He stumbled because of the sudden apparent change in his center of gravity and nearly lost his balance. Even so, he fell to one knee beside Sam and pulled Sam into his arms. “Sam?” he whispered fearfully, seeing the blood flowing down Sam’s face in a sheet of crimson. Tears slid down his cheeks as he put his hand on the wound to try to stave the blood flow, praying it wasn’t a lethal injury. “Are you okay? You owe me a kiss, dammit. You can’t die. You owe me a kiss.”

The urgent questions and cold wet drops falling onto his face brought Sam around. _You’re... you’re dripping all over me, jerk._ A smile curved his lips as he slowly pushed up to a sitting position. “You’re the one who owes me the kiss, and I’m not going anywhere until I collect it. So you remember? Everything? Us?” he asked more softly, his gaze locked with Castiel’s.

“Some things are still a little fuzzy, jumbled up. I still don’t really remember anything before coming here. But I think I remember...well, I remember kissing you and making out with you and holding hands at night...and the dream of us on the beach in California.” Castiel smiled at Sam, feeling relief when he realized the head wound was no longer bleeding. “You have naughty dreams.”

“Who said it was mine. Maybe it was yours,” Sam countered. “Cas...” he leaned in and gave Castiel a light kiss on the lips. _Sorry about the blood_. Giving a rueful smile, he stood up and gave his hand to Cas. “Let’s go clean up, and then get the hell out of this place. We’re not coming back.” His gaze briefly fell to Nathan’s body, and he really didn’t care if the guy made it. Not after what he’d done to Castiel, one of their own.

Castiel let Sam pull him to his feet. “We need to get Nathan down. No one will find him up here.” He saw Sam’s look. “Sam, if the demon was right and I’m really a...an angel, I can’t just leave him,” Castiel gave a sigh. “I couldn’t just leave him up here anyhow. If he dies, I don’t want it to be because we just left him to rot. Even if he maybe kind of deserves it. C’mon. We have to be better than them. We hafta,” Castiel insisted.

“You’re no angel.” Sam gave him a look. “Look, we got enough on our hands down there. We gotta stop the demons. Then we’ll let a screw know where Nathan is. If we waste time dragging his ass down...”

“Draw the symbol on him. I’ll carry him down. Because when the demons are beaten, I don’t ever want to talk to another screw or risk them stopping us.” Castiel’s chin took on the same stubborn tilt that Sam’s did when his mind was set on something.

“You _are_ turning into a rebel.” Sam knew when he was beaten, but he was damned if he was going to let Cas carry the jerk alone. “Let’s see where he came in. There’s no need to climb down from the roof now.” 

Walking out the door, Sam headed down the hall. He quickly found the door leading to the inner stairway and pulled it open. 

Returning to the room Castiel had been held in, he bent down and grabbed Nathan by the ankles. “Let’s do it.”

Sliding his hands under Nathan’s arms Castiel began to lift him but started to lose his balance, unaccustomed to moving without the wings and chains. His wings suddenly appeared, spreading open, allowing him to regain his stability. Parts of the wings were still healing, dark gray feathers now growing in where black feathers had been lost that white feathers during his ‘angelic outburst’ hadn’t replaced. 

“Holy crap!” Castiel said and dropped Nathan with a thud, looking at his wings, startled. He blew out a breath. “These things are going to be a fucking pain, I can tell it now,” Castiel groused as he bent over to pick Nathan back up while trying to get his wings folded down, unsure how to make them disappear again.

A laugh escaped Sam. “You’re like Pegasus, only human-ish.” He had doubts about the angel thing, but Castiel was definitely not a demon, and that was good enough for him.

“I’m a blue-eyed husky / pegasus,” Castiel agreed with a nod. “Just walk. Jerk.”

Flashing Cas a grin, Sam lifted Nathan a little higher off the ground and started to back out of the room.

*

When they got downstairs, they put Nathan in the middle of a devil’s trap. Sounds of fighting, of furniture breaking, and people shouting echoed down the halls. Sam and Cas took off at a dead run for the cafeteria. 

Seeing the cafeteria full of black-eyed demons, Sam said, “you do your thing and I’ll do mine.” 

It was a rude awakening when Sam put his hand out and focused on exorcising a nearby demon, only to have nothing happen. Nothing except he was thrown across the floor, sliding on his back until he hit a wall.

“What are you doing?” Castiel said, watching Sam act like he was Darth Vader trying to use the Force instead of calling out an exorcism. When Sam was tossed across the room though, that got Castiel’s attention and stirred up his wrath. He spread his wings wide. “I got rid of Azazel. I’ll...smite...all of you. Leave! Or risk my holy wrath!” he yelled, not having a clue how he’d gotten rid of Azazel, but the demons didn’t know that. The worst that could happen was they’d laugh at him, right?

Everyone stopped for a moment and stared at Castiel. That gave Sam a chance to start saying the exorcism ritual, though he didn’t know if it would even work on so many people at once. A few others joined in the chanting, but the demons didn’t appear to be on the run or afraid. They disrupted the ritual in the usual ways, sending projectiles at the speakers.

Another few minutes passed with no one approaching Castiel. They were waiting. Watching. As if an unspoken order was given, a bunch of demons descended on Castiel, mocking and insulting him.

Castiel cursed when the demons didn’t run, and he tried to call up the energy he’d felt when he’d gone up against Azazel, but there was nothing there. When the demons started toward him, fear set in and he suddenly found himself hanging in the air out of their immediate reach. One demon launched a chair at him that clipped his wing, but he still couldn’t seem to find that energy. 

Then he saw three demons moving in on Sam. 

With hardly a thought, Castiel was suddenly at Sam’s side, reaching out and laying his hands on the foreheads of the two closest possessed bodies. Brilliant white light erupted as the demons screamed and were sent back to Hell.

The light from Castiel’s hands was so bright, Sam had to shield his eyes. He stumbled to his feet, prepared to run from the third demon, but Cas stepped between him and the demon. In a split second, it was over for the demon.

_Lost my mojo, but it looks like you have enough for the both of us._

It was a beautiful sight. All those who weren’t possessed stopped fighting and just watched as Castiel made his way around the room, placing his hands on the foreheads of those who were possessed and exorcising their demons with the bright, white light.

Those who weren’t watching managed to bar the doors, so none of the demons could escape. 

A screw started to organize people so that everyone had to voluntarily walk into a devil’s trap, then walk out. That way they could be sure no demons slipped through the ranks.

Sam made his way to the door and waited for Castiel. Eighteen or not, no one was going to stop them from leaving. Not today.

*

Castiel was tired when they finally finished clearing out the cafeteria of demons. With all the students available to help, he left them to their own devices, making sure everyone knew the symbol to draw on themselves for protection.

If anyone started to approach, Castiel simply spread his wings out a bit and glared at them. Yes, there were still some demons around, but let the screws handle the rest as far as he was concerned. He was done unless someone threatened them.

“Did you get everything packed? And I need some clothes. Azazel ripped my robe off and I’d like more than just my boxers to walk around in. Are we going to California now? Are we walking? How long do you think it will take to get there?” He didn’t mean to but he yawned and was suddenly struggling to keep his eyes open even as his wings began to flicker in and out of view.

Sam gave him a look, then nodded toward the others milling around. “A little discretion?”

Ollie ran up to them, but kept a little distance from Castiel. “I... uh... just wanted to say... uh...” His eyes were locked onto Castiel’s wings, like he couldn’t look elsewhere.

Castiel had the grace to look embarrassed over just blurting out their plans. When Ollie came running up to them, Castiel’s wings solidified again and his wings spread a bit almost as if in warning, making Ollie hesitate.

Quietly Castiel said to Ollie, “The demon said I’m really an angel. That that’s why I have them, the wings. And we always knew I had some way of flying that we didn’t understand, right? The wings just sort of have a mind of their own right now. It’s still me, Ollie. You don’t have to be afraid of me or anything. ...Unless you piss me off and then I’ll sic Sam on you.” Castiel tried to smile but the smile felt nervous, and suddenly he just wanted himself and Sam to be anywhere but here.

“I... guess.” 

Ollie was still staring when Sam lurched toward him, shouting, “Raargh!”

The way Ollie almost jumped out of his skin had Sam laughing. Then Ollie joined in, looking very sheepish. Just as he almost slapped Cas on the back, Castiel started to laugh, too.

“You’re alright, Rockstar. You’re alright.” He nodded. “Guess you guys are taking off. I’ve been thinking, maybe I’ll leave too.”

“Nothing to stop you,” Sam said, but in his gut he knew Ollie would stay to help the younger kids. “But if you don’t, you all know how to keep the demons away now. Always wear the symbols. Maybe get tats or something like that. And don’t let the screws go back to being the way they were.” One thing that kept a lot of kids from running was fear of possession and being somewhere that no one could help them.

Ollie nodded. “I think they took a huge licking.”

“We’ll come back and check on you. You tell ‘em if it goes back to how it was, I will … _we_... me and a certain angel with fire and brimstone powers... will shut them down.” Sam spoke loudly enough that others heard him as well. He wanted the message to get to the right people.

Castiel decided he needed to make sure everyone understood what had really happened because he wasn’t sure if Nathan would survive to tell the truth, if he’d even admit it in the first place. “The demon, Azazel, he’s the one who possessed me, and later Nathan. He’s the one who gave a lot of you his blood. At least, that’s what he claimed. He’s been using the schools as a way to collect all of ‘his’ kids together, and then working it so we would get info about Azazel’s enemies and take care of those enemies for him. I sent Azazel to Hell, I think. It’ll probably take some time for him to climb back out. I’m not sure...I don’t know what he’ll try next time. He wanted me when he found out there was a broken angel here. Hopefully...hopefully we’ll have a long time to before we ever have to deal with him again. And by then, you’ll all be hunters, or know how to control any powers you develop so you can live a normal life and, with the symbols, they won’t ever be able to possess you again.” His gaze tracked over to a few of the screws, making certain his message was getting through. “Cause I would be _really_ pissed off if nothing changed.”

“And if he’s not pissed, I’ll make sure he gets pissed,” Sam added. “Let’s go get changed.” Defiantly taking Castiel’s hand, he marched out into the hallway. 

“We’re free. We’re really free,” he said, grinning broadly and breaking into a run, then suddenly slowing down. He’d forgotten his injuries. “On our way out, let’s grab stuff from the infirmary. Oh... you know how to drive? Gordon won’t be needing his jeep...”

“You can teach me,” Castiel said, grinning at Sam.


	9. Chapter 9

They’d gotten a lot of practice driving on the salt plains and each of them claimed to be the better driver. Course it had been a different story once they reached a town and had to watch for cops and other drivers.

They stopped at the first motel they saw. “Guess they didn’t think about ‘curiosity killing the cat,’” Sam said, as he parked in the small lot next to the Motel Curiosity. 

They got out of the car, and he inspected Castiel, who’d found a trench coat in Gordon’s closet and snagged it. It did a pretty good job of hiding his wings, if and when they appeared. Cas was having trouble controlling them, but Sam was sure he’d figure it out.

“Who knew Gordon was so generous?” he asked, patting his pocket full of money. Castiel had the rest of it in a duffel bag. 

“Don’t forget Nathan’s contributions,” Castiel added, slinging a couple of the bags over his shoulder. He paused when he saw the soda machine and the snack machine beside it. Biting his lower lip, he looked at Sam. “Can we have some? We won’t get in trouble, right? So long as we give the machines money.” 

“From now on, there’s no getting in trouble,” Sam promised. “C’mon,” he headed straight for the machines, and dug some change out of his pocket. Then he explained how the vending machine worked and let Castiel put the money in to get them drinks and snacks. “Now you’re a pro at it,” he announced, smiling. “But you don’t have to look at it like you’re in love,” he added, quickly moving away and heading inside, to the reception desk.

“We’d like a room,” Sam said, nodding over his shoulder to indicate Castiel.

“King or double beds?” the guy asked.

Sam hesitated for a moment. “Ah..king.”

“Twenty eight bucks a night.”

As he paid up for the night, Sam asked, “You have air conditioning in the rooms?”

“Course. We’re a high class motel. Got all the porn you want, too. Even gay porn, we’re cutting edge-like,” he added.

Feeling a flush creep up his face, Sam quickly said, “Hear that, Cas, your favorite!”

Cas smiled and nodded. “I like happy movies, but most sex movies I’ve seen already have happy endings.” Intrigued by all the pamphlets advertising different tourist traps and noting that the sign said the pamphlets were ‘free,’ Castiel began taking one of each, making sure he wasn’t getting a dirty look from the guy at the desk. 

When Sam walked back, Cas pointed out the small “gift shop” which was just a counter with some Utah souvenirs and some baseball caps and t-shirts with “Curiosity is good for the soul” printed on them. There were also postcards with idyllic pictures of the motel and the nearby salt plains, typical sundries like aspirin, anti-acids and Band-Aids, along with some Frisbees. 

“Can we get hats and sunglasses and a Frisbee?” Castiel asked, practically bouncing with excitement. 

“Sure. But no hat for me. Let’s get this stuff to our room first, not like we’re going anywhere,” he said. Moving closer, he whispered, “we’ll probably find better things at the stores in town.”

Castiel gave him a smile. _Yeah, but this is our first motel. I want something to remember it with, and I like the baseball cap. We can wait to get a Frisbee if you want. And sunglasses._

“If you want it, let’s do it.” Using his foot to move his duffel bag close to the door, Sam joined Cas at the gift shop and twirled the hat stand. “Which one do you like?” 

“I’ve never gotten to choose anything before, not really. I mean, something like this. Movies and treats don’t count.” He studied them intently, one by one. He finally picked up a blue one with white lettering and tried it on. “You like this one? Or should I do red? Or maybe black?” Looking at Sam he waited, hoping for some help with choosing. 

“Try the red.” Sam shook his head, ‘no.’ “Put the blue back on. Turn it around,” he said, then gave a nod. “That’s the one.” He didn’t add that the hat matched Castiel’s eyes, or that he might have a thing for blue ever since he’d met Cas.

Castiel beamed at Sam and then put the ball cap on backwards and crossed his arm, slouching some. “Do I look like some rapper, or some street savvy guy?” Castiel asked, trying to look cool.

“Wish I had a phone. I’d take a pic,” Sam answered a little wistfully, “Get it and we’ll re-do the moment when we have phones.” 

Castiel carried the cap over to the guy behind the desk. After he paid for it, he put it back on and grinned at Sam. “Okay, let’s go to _our_ room, turn on the our A/C, and watch some of that ‘happy’ porn!”

Sam felt a hot blush steal over his face for the second time in less than a quarter of an hour. “He’s kidding,” he mumbled under the intense stare the cashier was giving him. “No, really. We’re just gonna watch cartoons and...”

“It’s extra for the tentacle porn, but worth it,” the guy all the way over at reception practically shouted to them.

“Meet you upstairs,” Sam quickly said, practically making a run for the door. Grabbing his gear, he only just made it outside before he was laughing so hard tears were streaming down his cheek. 

*

The pair of them settled into the room, with Castiel thrilled at being able to control the remote and change the channel anytime he damned well wanted. His eyes had grown big at the sight of the bed, and even bigger when he sprawled across it to find it was so much softer than the beds he’d slept in for as long as he could remember. He was startled when he went into the bathroom and discovered it had both a shower and a tub.

“Sam! Sam! Come in here!” Castiel said, already disrobing. “There’s a shower in here, and we can shower for as long as we want! And even a bath tub!”

“Know what else?” Sam asked, crawling to the edge of the bed and practically leering once he saw Castiel pulling his shirt off. “No fucking alarm bell... we can sleep in. Till lunchtime if we want.” 

“But won’t we be hungry for breakfast?” Castiel asked, then laughed. “I can’t imagine being able to eat whenever we want, whatever we want. You want to shower with me? It might be a little cramped, but it’ll be...cozy.”

“Really?” Sam didn’t wait for Castiel to change his mind. He rolled off the bed and headed for the bathroom and checked out the shower. “Not too small,” he said, then leaned against the sink. “You need any help, with...” he nodded toward Castiel’s pants. Though he was trying to look casual, his heart was racing at the thought of being alone with Cas. Being free to look and touch.

“No, I got it,” Castiel said, his brow furrowing. As he unzipped, he saw that Sam was watching his hands, licking his lips, and his breathing had definitely increased in pace. Castiel froze and let go of his pants. “Uh, I think the zipper is caught,” he said, suddenly feeling his face warm a bit and he didn’t think it was the steam from the running water. 

Sam met Castiel’s gaze. _Bad zipper. I’ll take care of it._

Pushing away from the sink, he stood close and ran his hand down Castiel’s bare stomach, lingering on the spot right under his naval. He’d told Cas he wanted to kiss him right there, and the thought made his stomach clench.

Swallowing hard, he held Cas’ jeans with one hand and started to pull the zipper down very slowly, his eyes traveling up to meet Castiel’s for a split second. If the sound of the shower hadn’t been filling the room, he was sure Cas would hear his heart beats.

“The tingles are back,” Castiel murmured. The room suddenly reverberated with a soft _whumpf!_ that was almost more felt than heard, and Castiel suddenly felt the weight of his wings. The mostly black wings unfurled and stretched out, curling around the walls of the small bathroom. “Dammit,” he muttered, knowing his face wasn’t just pink, but red with embarrassment.

Sam was just as startled, but couldn’t help but laugh. “Hello, Pegasus,” he said, using the joke to ease some of his own nervousness. 

Dropping his hands, he stood back a little, looking at the wings. “They’re huge.” After inspecting them, Sam reached up and touched Castiel’s wing, for the first time really stroking them. “All your feathers are back. And you’re already healed... everywhere,” he mused.

Castiel shivered a little as Sam ran his hand along one wing, his breath hissing as heat coiled in his gut. It took him a moment to find his voice but he finally nodded. “Yeah but I’ve got white and gray feathers where I was injured. The white and gray are the new ones. I wonder why they aren’t black.” His own hand slipped up to Sam’s chest, tentatively running his hand over Sam’s shirt.

“Maybe I give you gray feathers,” Sam quipped, leaning into Cas’ touch. “You know...” he hands went back to the opening of Cas’ jeans. “You still owe me that kiss,” he said, unzipping his pants all the way down, then resting his hands on Cas’ hips and drawing him close. 

“You want me to kiss you?” Castiel asked, not fighting against Sam’s gentle tugs. “I think I can do that. Let’s see if I remember how.”

After licking his lips he leaned in and kissed Sam lightly on his lips. “There. You’ve been kissed.” He grinned at Sam’s slightly annoyed look. “Not good enough? Hmm. Okay. Let me try again.” 

Without warning, Castiel wrapped his arms around Sam and began kissing him aggressively, groaning into Sam’s mouth and when Sam’s lips parted, Castiel slid his tongue in and began investigating every millimeter of his boyfriend’s mouth.

Sam staggered back, but held onto Castiel, pulling him upright against his frame as they kissed. It was intense. And hot. And unrushed. There was no one to see them, to punish them for doing what felt right, for grabbing a moment of happiness. 

Groaning softly, Sam slipped his hands over Castiel’s ass and breaking the kiss, brought their mouths together again, this time invading Cas’ mouth with his tongue. _Can’t believe we’re free. That we’re living our dream._

 _Where’s the beach, then? Don’t see no beach. Though we’re about to get wet. And we’re not in California yet,_ Castiel teased. He loved being in Sam’s arms. It felt so good and he felt so safe. He’d never have left the school on his own because the outside world intimidated him, but with Sam to take care of him, he could dare to try. _You know the best part of being a telepath? We can talk and don’t have to stop kissing._

 _Wish we didn’t need to breathe._ Sam meant it too, as he kissed the daylights out of Castiel. _I was afraid. Scared you’d never remember me. Us. That it would be different between us,_ he admitted, running one hand up Cas’ back and carding his fingers through his soft hair.

 _I think it has to do with that Grace thing the demon told me about. He said it would heal and when I started to remember too much, he’d shred it so I’d forget everything._ Castiel pulled back a moment so they could look into each others’ eyes. “I’m glad it healed some. I’m glad too that I didn’t lose you, or forget you.” Castiel began mimicking Sam’s caresses. “Hey if I’m a husky, what are you? A giraffe?”

Sam shoved him, but not hard enough to actually push him away. “If you’re Pegasus, that makes me a Greek God,” he snickered, half sure Cas wouldn’t get the joke. “Touch me under my shirt,” he whispered, his voice growing raspy.

“Bellerophon wasn’t a Greek god, but if you want me to call you Belle, I can,” Castiel said. As he slid his hand under Sam’s shirt, he smugly added, “Don’t try to beat me on mythology trivia. I’ll toast your butt.” When his hand drifted over Sam’s nipple and Sam jumped, so did Castiel. “I thought only girls went ga-ga over the nipple thing,” he mused. “Since Belle is a Disney princess...yep, guess you’re a girl, _Belle._ ” Hanging around Sam, he’d been educated--make that teased--about all the Disney movies their dorm room could request.

“Wouldn’t know... don’t watch Disney,” Sam said, his eyes half-closed as he waited for the slide of Castiel’s hand over him. And when it came, he admitted. _Yeah... Yeah I do like it, a lot._ He brought their mouths together in a series of brief kisses as he undid his own pants. 

When he stepped back, he smiled a little nervously at Castiel, then pulled his shirt off and stripped out of his pants. They’d seen each other naked a hundred times before at school. 

This was different.

“You’re blushing,” Castiel said feeling himself blush in response. It was made worse seeing Sam’s dick stiffening, and yet even as Sam’s cock grew harder, he felt heat pour into his gut and his own cock began to fill. “Geez, you’d think we’d never seen each other...you know, naked, or something.” His wings fluttered, stretching open a bit more.

“‘Not blushing... just warm in here,” Sam muttered. He hesitated a minute, then dropped down, peeling Castiel’s pants down to his ankles in the process, and leaning in to kiss his stomach. The brief touch made his lips burn, and his breath catch in his throat.

“Who’s going ‘ga-ga’ now?” he asked Cas. Slowly standing up, he took Castiel’s hand and waited for him to step out of his pants, before backing him away from the tub, and into the shower stall.

“Am not going ga-ga,” Castiel insisted, even as his stomach muscles continued to flutter long after Sam’s lips had left his flesh. “And you are too blushing,” he murmured. stepping inside the shower. 

His wings caused the water to suddenly spray everywhere all at once, making both of them sputter a bit before Castiel managed to get his wings folded down. Then they disappeared again. 

“I have got to figure out how to keep them invisible or whatever it is they do,” he grumbled, wiping the water from his face and eyes. “Did I half drown you?” he asked grinning sheepishly at Sam as he brushed Sam’s wet hair off of his forehead. “You’re cute when you’re half drowned.” 

“They’re a handful,” Sam agreed, laughing and looking at the space where the wings had been only seconds ago. Walking around Castiel, he ran his hand over Castiel’s back, right between his shoulder blades, then he pulsed both his thumbs over the ridge of Cas’ shoulder blades. “No sign of them.” On a whim, he pushed Cas closer to the wall, and started to kiss his shoulders, a low moan escaping him when his cock brushed against Castiel’s water-slicked ass. 

As Sam’s hands passed between his shoulder blades, followed by his thumbs, Castiel simply froze, feelings shooting through him like he’d never felt. He hardly reacted to Sam’s push, his mind still on the fire Sam had ignited inside of him. He shuddered as Sam kissed his shoulders.

“Again. Rub over my shoulder blades again,” Castiel begged. “That felt...oh my God, I can’t even describe it,” he said almost breathlessly.

“I think I found your angel-nipples,” Sam teased. Dipping his head, he kissed along one shoulder blade as he rubbed his thumb in circles over the other one. “How’s this?” he asked, nipping lightly with his lips and smiling against Cas’ skin when Cas backed up against him again, putting pressure right where Sam needed it. 

“I don’t have . . .” Castiel’s voice simply trailed off and a high pitched squeaky moan ended up coming from him instead as he shifted and rubbed and pressed back against Sam. “Don’t stop,” he begged as his hands found their way to Sam’s hips and drifted down over his ass. Sometimes his fingers dug into Sam’s muscles when Sam’s mouth brushed over him just right. “Good thing we didn’t discover this before now,” Castiel said, squirming under Sam’s attentions. “Or we’d have gotten in all sorts of trouble...there, yeah, right there...Oh, Jesus, yeah...” Castiel’s eyes fluttered closed.

“Would’a been worth it,” Sam whispered huskily, heat lancing through him each time Cas rubbed against him or when Sam lightly thrust his hips, grinding his arousal against Cas’ ass. “Could do this forever.” It was a good thing the sound of the water covered up his sharp gasps for air. 

“I couldn’t. I’m so hard I think I could pound nails,” Castiel murmured, beginning to react more and more to Sam thrusting against him. He dropped one hand down and wrapped his fingers around his aching arousal while he pressed his other hand flat against the wall of the shower. He moaned louder as he began to stroke himself in time to Sam’s kisses along his shoulder blades and the rhythm of Sam’s thrusts. “Mmm, yeah. Better,” he sighed and found himself tilting his head back to rest on Sam’s shoulder, even if it meant Sam’s lips couldn’t be on his shoulder blades anymore.

“Me too,” Sam admitted, struggling to maintain some control even when all he wanted was to rub harder and faster, chase his release. “You have no idea how often you made me walk around... just like this. Hard, but with nothing I could do about it. Didn’t think you’d want this... me.” Sliding his mouth over Castiel’s cheek, he started to kiss his shoulder again, and swept his hand up Castiel’s side, so he could press his thumb against his shoulder blade. “Oh God... Cas...” 

“You walked around like that because your mind is always having naughty daydreams,” Castiel said. “Why wouldn’t I want you or this? You think Ollie was more my style?”

As Sam’s thumb pressed into his shoulder, Castiel arched. “Wings!” he warned, but Sam didn’t have any time to really react as his wings popped back into existence. 

The sound of a stinging wet slap across Sam’s face echoed against the tiles, as did his short, “ow!” Closing his arms around Castiel’s waist, he jerked him close. “You _do_ have to get them under control. But not now... now I just wanna come,” he said, putting his face between Castel’s wings and thrusting his cock against Castiel’s ass, moving faster and harder, his breaths coming out in broken exhales. 

“Sorry,” Castiel said, embarrassed by his wings, but Sam’s words cut right through his embarrassment. He loved how Sam held him around his waist, like he’d never let him go.

Castiel tried to find a rhythm and at first only frustrated Sam further, but he finally got the timing right, pushing back against his lover, taking his cues from the sounds Sam was making, noticing when they rose in volume. Castiel stroked himself faster, his own breath coming in short, sharp gasps. 

“That’s it... that’s it,” Sam grit out, keeping a tight grip on Castiel and thrusting single-mindedly, driving himself over the edge. “Oh God, yes... Cas!” he suddenly pulled Castiel against him, holding him there as he came against his ass, rubbing his face in the soft feathers between Cas’ shoulder blades. 

It took a while, but when he came back to his senses, he swept his hand down Castiel’s stomach. _Can I..._ It was a stupid question and he was glad Cas couldn’t see his face. 

_Can you what?_ Castiel asked.

Pressing harder against Castiel as he rode out the last waves of his climax, Sam was quiet for a moment. _Do you want me to... you know... take over?_ He forced the question out, not knowing why he was embarrassed or feeling foolish.

“Oh,” Castiel said then, after a slight hesitation, let go of his cock and gripped Sam’s wrist. “I’d like that,” Castiel said, feeling sort of embarrassed himself. He found himself still pushing back somewhat erratically against Sam’s cock.

“Okay. I... I’d like that too,” Sam whispered hotly into Castiel’s ear as he closed his fingers around his hard length. “Tell me when I get it right,” he said, squeezing him and pumping slowly, nudging his hips against Castiel’s so he had some pressure coming from the back as well. 

_Bet you never thought you’d be jacking off an angel,_ Castiel teased as he pressed back against Sam. When Sam gave his cock another squeeze, he groaned and thrust into his hand. _You got it right,_ he said. _Twist a little, no, yeah, there, near my balls. Uhn, yeah..._

Castiel leaned back against Sam, removing his hand from the shower wall and put it over the arm still wrapped around his waist. He interlaced their fingers as his thrusts grew a little deeper and his groans a little louder. 

“That’s it... that’s it,” Sam crooned, loving how Castiel was falling apart in his arms. “That’s it _Angel_ ,” he teased. “Come as hard as you want. No one’s gonna hear. It’s just us... just us now.”

“Sam...” Castiel moaned, suddenly sensitive to everything around him. The sound of the water flowing, the feel of the hot water on his skin, the press of Sam groin against his backside, the touch of his lover’s hand on his cock. “So good...so good...faster,” he begged, thrusting harder and harder, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. His wings stretched out and they gave a single downward beat, lifting both of them off the ground a few feet as Castiel gave a shout, his cum spewing against the shower wall, reflecting back and coating his stomach and Sam’s hand. They slowly began sinking to the floor as Castiel collapsed fully against Sam.

Sitting on the floor of the shower, Sam closed both arms around Castiel’s waist and dropped his face down on his shoulder, nuzzling his neck. _Did we just fly. I mean... literally?_ God he felt so good, so damned good. He had everything he could want, and he and Cas were going to do anything... anything they wanted, when they wanted.

 _Uh, yeah. Sorry,_ Castiel said, tilting his head so Sam had easier access. “Didn’t know I could lift anyone else so easily,” he added almost dreamily. “Guess we probably ought to actually shower with soap and all, huh?” He couldn’t put his wings down and away with Sam pressed up against his backside, but he also didn’t want to move, completely happy right where they were. He could never recall being happier. Ever.

“You mean cause we’re wasting water? Fuck it.” Sam kissed Castiel’s neck and held onto him. “We wash when we wanna. And right now, I just wanna...” Leaning in, he managed to kiss Castiel on the mouth. _Yeah. Definitely, this is what I wanna do._

They stayed sitting on the floor of the shower. Kissing, holding each other, and whispering about the things they’d get to do. Making plans. Big ones. “Other people’s dreams are gonna be our reality,” Sam promised. It had been the reverse for too long. Far too long. “It’s our turn now.”

* * *

They’d moved out the next afternoon, neither of them wanting to risk either hunters or demons finding them. Sam convinced Castiel that Las Vegas would be a good place to go, a big city, lots of people, and easy to get lost in. Then, from there, they could head on to California and beaches and figure out just what they were going to do next.

They didn’t bust-a-gut driving, but took their time over the next couple of days, taking a detour whenever Castiel wanted to explore something nearby. They saw many tourist traps and explored obscure, out-of-the-way places. They took tours of ghost towns and abandoned gold mines, and even went horseback riding. Castiel pointed out that if anyone was following them, they’d be going nuts trying to track them since they never went anywhere in a straight line. With the Jeep, sometimes they didn’t even bother to stay on the road.

They stopped in the suburbs of Las Vegas, finding a decently cheap motel with a pool. Castiel was sporting his brand new “Nevada” t-shirt, Levi jeans, and cowboy boots and Sam was dressed similarly. Crossing their room, Castiel checked the cooler and shook his head. “We’re out of soda and lemonade and everything. We need to restock. And we’re out of chocolate! Hey, did you eat the last pack of M&Ms, jerk?”

“Well, you got me hungry, so it’s your fault,” Sam told him, giving him a look. He was sitting at the small table in the kitchen area, and winding some twine around a motel pen. Occasionally, he looked at Castiel and grinned.

Castiel rolled his eyes. “You are hopeless. Did you finish that fake ID? You promised you’d get me some beer to try. Are you sure it’s good? I mean, I like soda or juice just fine and I don’t want you to get arrested or anything.”

“Yeah, I finished. And I’ll get some.” Sam continued to wind the twine. “There’s a nice breeze outside,” he mentioned. Course it was a warm breeze, but it didn’t bother him, not after having lived where it was hotter than hell, but never getting the relief of a pool or strong air conditioning. 

Castiel walked over to Sam and pulled his chair out from under the table, then straddled Sam and sat down on his lap. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

“Me? Nah,” Sam’s grin broadened as he slipped the twine through Castiel’s belt loop and tied it. “You trying to tell me something?” He looked up into the depths of Cas’ blue eyes and felt his head swim. 

Castiel grinned at him and brought his wings out of hiding, spreading them wide. “How about I want to get you naked...after you get us something to drink and eat?” He leaned in and whispered in Sam’s ear, “And maybe that I love you.”

“Mmm, yeah, I like that idea. A lot.” Sam kissed Castiel. “And then, afterwards. We’ll go into the desert.” He tugged on the twine. “I haven’t flown a kite since I was a kid.” His eyes brimmed with laughter.

Castiel smacked him as he pushed off of Sam’s lap, his wings snapping closed and disappearing. “I am not a kite! Next time I take you up, I think I’ll drop you! On your head so I don’t have to worry about hurting you.”

Sam tried to ‘reel him’ back in, but the pen fell from his hands and he stood up. “So, beer, candy and sex? That’s the plan? Forget Vegas,” he agreed, already feeling his cock twitching. “Oh, the gay porn is on...” he looked at the channel guide and told Cas the number. “Might give you some ideas... you know, to reward me with.”

Grinning, he ducked out of the room before Castiel could get to him. Humming, he tossed the car keys up and caught them, as he headed for the Jeep in the parking lot.

 _I know exactly how I’m going to reward you and I don’t need any happy porn to give me any ideas tonight. Let’s just say it might remind you of trying to teach me to whistle, and nothing to do with kissing...unless you keep being a je-erkkk_

Sam stopped cold in front of the car, then he noticed the looks he was drawing from a man who was parking. Giving a sheepish grin, he opened the door and got into the jeep. _You just made me look like a fool. Cut it out._

*

Sam knew he wasn’t 21 and the liquor store owner knew it too. But his driver’s license said 22, so the guy was wrapping up the candy and letting him pay for the twelve pack. He also had some cokes, cause he was sure neither of them would love the beer. He could just barely remember his reaction to it when Dean had taken his dad’s beer when they were kids. Hopefully it would taste better to an ‘adult.’

He’d just pushed his money across the counter when he heard the distinct sound of a gun being cocked. Before he could turn, he felt its barrel pressed against the back of his head.

 _I love you, Cas._ Sam looked up at the round mirror near the ceiling that showed who was in the liquor store. The cashier was shaking with fear. Another armed man had come around and was cleaning out the register.

The whole thing was over in under three minutes. The cashier must have seen something in Sam’s eyes because he’d said, “Don’t do anything stupid. I don’t wanna die.” It had stopped Sam cold. He remembered how often he’d gotten Castiel beat by the hunters, so he did what the cashier wanted, and they all survived.

*

Castiel kicked off his boots because he was used to running barefoot, rushed out of the motel room, and immediately broke into a dead run along the desert highway. Sam never told Castiel he loved him...unless he thought he was going to die. Was it demons? Hunters? Castiel tried to contact him again, but he was so upset he just couldn’t seem to make his telepathy work. He might not be able to talk to Sam but he could sense where he was, and Castiel was running at top speed, just as if Azazel himself was after him. Even the broken glass he stepped on didn’t slow him down. 

As he ran, he sensed that Sam was getting closer. He didn’t hear any sirens, and nothing stirred the air. Still, his breath was locked in his chest and, when he saw the Jeep crest the hill, tears started to roll down his face. He waved frantically as he ran for the jeep. “Sam! God dammit! Sam!”

Sam pulled over onto the shoulder of the road, kicking up a storm of dust. Before he could get his door open, Castiel was there. “Cas?” The window was closed, so he rolled it down. “What... you alright? You were supposed to be waiting on me with your pants down.” 

“You told me you love me, you asshole! The _only_ time you ever say it is when you’re in danger!” Castiel wrapped his hand in Sam’s shirt and half pulled him out of the Jeep as he kissed him deeply, still half-scared out of his wits. He didn’t let Sam up for air until Sam started to physically pull away.

Gasping for air, Sam wiped Castiel’s tears. “I’m not letting anything happen. To either of us,” he promised. He managed to open the door and stepped out, standing next to Cas and leaning against the car. He took Cas’ hand and looked out into the desert. _Sure I do, tell you I love you. Every time I go and get your candy. You think I’d get candy for Ollie?_ He gave a huffed laugh, and glanced at Cas.

“It’s not the same,” Castiel said. “I want you to say it to me, like I say it to you all the time. Getting me candy shows you love me. But I want to hear those words in your voice, and not just when you’re in danger...and what the hell happened anyhow?” He clutched at Sam, his fingers twisting in Sam’s shirt over and over. “And I wasn’t going to have my pants down for you. I was offering to try to give you a blow job, doofus. You know, whistling? Blowing?” He puckered his lips as if trying to whistle. 

“I know. I didn’t mean it literally.” Sam swallowed at the sight of Castiel hollowing his cheeks out like that. _Are you trying to make me come in my pants?_ Still, he couldn’t look away, and he was swaying toward Castiel.

Castiel released Sam’s shirt and folded his arms over his chest, taking a step away from Sam. “Say it.”

Sam licked his lips. “Ah...” he swallowed. “Are you trying to make me come in my pants?” he repeated audibly, searching Castiel’s face.

Eyes widening, face suddenly turning red, Castiel sputtered, “That you love me, you idiot! Tell me that you love me!”

“Of course I do. I do,” Sam insisted, this time grabbing Castiel’s shirt and pulling him close. “This much,” he whispered, kissing him and not caring who was driving by and what they saw.

Castiel tried not to melt as Sam kissed him, but he gave in and threw his arms around Sam. _You still haven’t said ‘love you,’ doofus,_ he complained even as he held Sam tightly. _Let’s go back to the motel and have beer and chocolate and hot wild sex._

“Mmm, now you’re talking.” Sam finally released Castiel and watched as he walked around the jeep. Just as they each got inside, Sam looked over at Castiel. “I love you.” He gave a shy, awkward smile, then sat back and started the car. He didn’t dare look over at Castiel again, as he pulled onto the road and put the pedal to the metal.

*

Castiel handed Sam another beer and got one for himself. “They kinda grow on you,” Castiel declared, wavering a little as he popped the top of the can. “But they taste like crap with chocolate. Prett’ good with chips and peanuts. Did you order,” Castiel took a long drink of the beer, “the pizza yet? I’m hungry again. Must be the wings.” He looked over his shoulder and his wings became visible. He waved them back and forth a few times. “They take extra energy I think. You still wanna fly me?”

“Oh yeah... I’ll fly you,” Sam said giving Castiel a look. 

“I meant as a kite,” Castiel said, but the heated look Sam gave him made his cheeks flush. “Course you’d have to give me a little tail.”

Sam started to laugh so hard, he spilled his beer. “Give you all the tail you like. All you gotta do is give me a little head.” Waggling his brows, he drank a little more. 

“I don’t know if my angel mojo can make your head smaller but I can try. But I like your head just the way it is,” Castiel said, trying hard to keep a straight face but not succeeding very well.

“Jerk. Besides...” 

The pizza guy finally knocked so Sam’s eyes followed Castiel as Cas went to get the door. “... you _really_ wouldn’t like me with a smaller head. I’ve heard it’s not as good when you...” he gestured with his hand, not that they’d done _that_ yet. “Put your wings away,” he added.

Castiel’s hand rested on the doorknob and almost started to open it when Sam pointed out his wings were still exposed. “Oooops,” Castiel said and made them disappear. “You know, I think it’s easier to control them when I’ve been drinking. We should go flying tonight.” 

He tugged the door open and looked at the large man with dark hair and dark beard, and the tall much younger man beside him. “Twenty dollars, right?” Castiel asked, looking between them. “Where’s the pizza? I thought only one guy delivers pizza...”

Falling back from the door, Castiel sobered. “Sam, I don’t think it’s our pizza.”

Sam snaked Gordon’s pistol out from under the bed, cocked it and was at the door behind Castiel, expecting to find the screws. It wasn’t the screws, but it was hunters.

He froze in place, staring at his father and Dean like the ghosts they were, straight out of his past.

“Son.” John stared at the other youth, then brushing past him through the door, closed his arms around Sam. “So tall,” he said, almost losing his voice and feeling the tears stinging his eyes.

Sam stood awkwardly, neither returning the hug, nor pushing his father away. He didn’t want the feelings stirring up inside him. He wanted them gone, wanted to be on his own with Cas, and their jokes, and their beers and chocolate, and endless sleep ins.

“Sammy,” Dean said, having a hard time waiting his turn. He looked briefly at the dark haired much slighter boy sharing the room with his brother. “I’m Dean Winchester. You?” Dean asked, tears stinging his eyes, but he was trying hard to hold it together.

Clearing his throat and trying to find a safe place to stand so he wasn’t too close to the strangers but not too far from Sam, Castiel gave a slight shrug. “Uh, Castiel. Rock. Castiel Rock.”

When he father finally let him go, Sam looked at Dean. He felt his eyes fill with tears seeing his brother looked so different. 

Dean was hugging Sam almost instantly. “God, Sammy, we’ve looked so damned long for you.” The tears Dean had been holding back were sliding down his cheeks. He was probably hugging Sam too tightly, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t want to let his little brother go. “I should ‘a stayed at the camp with you,” he muttered.

Sam sniffed, but held back his tears. It was easy for him, they’d taught him well at the schools. His eyes met Castiel’s. _I didn’t want this._

When Dean finally let him go, Sam looked at both of them. “How did you find me _now_?” he asked, his eyes hard and brimming with suspicion. “I’m _not_ going back there. This time, you can’t make me.”

John cocked his head. “We’re not here to take you to that place. We went there to get you back.”

“About six years too late, aren’t you,” Sam tossed back. “Now you came to get me. Now that I broke out?” he demanded, his voice rising.

“Sam,” Dean said, stepping forward. “We dropped you off at a _summer camp._ That’s all it was supposed to be. Eight weeks where you could make friends, learn survival skills, but also play soccer and baseball and go swimming and crap. You were always wanting us to stop for a while and saying you wanted to make some friends. With hunters running it, we thought you could, you know, keep those friends you made. Have a normal summer like kids your age should. But when we came back to get you...the whole camp was gone. Like it never existed. And you with it.”

“I _never_ wanted to go to that camp. I told you, I begged you,” Sam answered, looking at both of them. “But you said it would be alright. That’s what you said, Dean. And it wasn’t. Alright,” he choked on a sob. “And weeks passed, and you never came.”

“We came. I would never leave any boy of mine with...”

“With strangers? That’s exactly what you did,” Sam spat.

John looked down for a long moment, then he met his ever defiant boy’s angry gaze. “There was a danger of you getting possessed. I wanted... no, I needed you to be where people could help you when and if that happened. There was a job, and Dean couldn’t stay behind. So...”

“Do you want to know how many times I’ve been possessed.” Sam gave a bitter laugh. “Because we were _bait._ At your safe little camp. Do you know how easy it would have been to prevent?” He went and sat down on the bed, then looked up. “You have no idea how many times I heard about the Winchesters and their hunting skills. So where were they? Your hunting skills. When you were looking for me?” he challenged.

“They were hunters, too,” Dean said quietly, wiping at his tears. “They moved you when we got close. They knew us. It took us two years, but we got a girl hunter embedded with those bastards. Jo Harvelle. She went to their different schools, offering some specialized training. What she was doing was hunting for you, though. She called us and told us she’d found you, but by the time we got there...all hell had broken loose. And you were gone with--” Dean glanced at Castiel, “--with another kid in a Jeep. We’ve been following your trail but you’ve used cash and have been all over the fucking map, back-tracking, looping around, and sometimes we’d completely lose you. We were afraid...” Dean’s throat closed up.

Castiel moved over to the cooler and dug out two beers and two sodas. He handed the two strangers a beer each and then gave Sam a soda and sat down next to him on the bed. _It’s okay, Sam. I’m right here and I’m not leaving. You want me to tell them to go away and they can join us for breakfast and we can talk more then? ...Or I could call and order a few more pizzas delivered._

“Jo. I know her. She’s a bitch, just like them,” Sam said, a little uncertainty creeping into his voice.

John looked over at Dean. Dean was always better at handling his brother. 

Sam glanced at Cas, but didn’t have an answer for him. _I just wish... wish this never happened._

 _It has happened and they’re your family. You’re my family now, so they’re my family too. And if they’re too much like the screws, I’ll just fly us away. Let them try to track that._ Castiel gave a smirk and squeezed Sam’s thigh.

“She had to be,” Dean said, spreading his hands. “They had to believe she was one of their fucked up fanatics. So she had to act just like them. Sammy, I know you think we abandoned you,” Dean licked his lips and studied the way the boy Castiel was touching his brother, “but you can’t believe we’d do that, not really. Sammy we’re all we’ve got. You, me, Dad. We’d never leave you, not to just disappear out of your life. If we were going to,” Dean glanced at his father, “leave you any place long term, like to protect you, I would have written you every fucking day. I’d have called every couple days. I’d have visited, sent you shit for your birthdays, for Christmas, for first day of school cause you were always such a geek about it. You _know_ I would have.” Dean stared at his brother, begging him to believe, to have faith in him that he was telling the truth.

“You... learned how to write?”

There was a long silence, and then everyone seemed to realize at the same time that it was a joke, and nervous laughter filled the room. Sam gave Dean a silent nod, and this time, he didn’t look away from his brother.

There was a knock on the door.

John reached for his gun and started for the door.

“It’s pizza,” Sam said. “Just pizza.”

Old habits being what they were, John checked through the peephole and then opened the door. He paid for the pizza and offered the guy an extra twenty bucks for another one.

Bringing two boxes inside, he sat them on the table. His gaze flicked to Sam and his friend.

“Come on Cas,” Sam said, as he slowly got off the bed.

“Castiel Rock, you said?” John asked. “Are your folks hunters?”

“No, they’re not. He doesn’t have any,” Sam answered for Castiel. Opening a box, he wasn’t really sure he was hungry anymore.

Castiel bumped into him with his hip. _You act like you’re dealing with a screw instead of your dad. If you don’t loosen up, I’m gonna kiss you so hot and heavy, your cock will split your jeans right open._ He pulled out a piece of pizza. 

Standing there, Sam looked like he’d swallowed wrong or something.

“I don’t even really know what my last name is. I was apparently possessed, killed a bunch of people, including my family, and Nathan found me after I’d been exorcised. He took me to the school. No one ever came looking for me, at least that’s what he told me. But he was a screw, so who knows. I don’t remember anything before the school, not really.”

Dean was already busy digging into the other pizza, and finally opened up the beer Castiel had given him.

John shook his head and took a bite of the pizza. “We’ll help you find your people.”

“We’re... I’m his people, now,” Sam said, lifting his jaw to a stubborn angle.

“Sam,” Dean said, “he might have been stolen away just like you were. What if it was his family that found you guys and they didn’t look for us? We’d spend all our lives looking for you. We...it would suck, okay?”

Castiel put his hand on Sam’s arm. “It’s okay. We can look. We should look, because obviously Nathan was a bigger bastard than we thought. But you and I are staying together, even if we find them. Promise.” He squeezed Sam’s biceps. _I guess you don’t want me kissing you right now, huh?_ Castiel thought to him with a sigh. It was just like the school. They were going to have to hide their relationship again, he was certain. But he’d do it. For Sam.

 _You can kiss me whenever you like. No tongue,_ Sam added, a smile playing on his lips as he relaxed a little. Then he looked up, pushing the hair out of his eyes and feeling the weight of Dean’s gaze on him.

He looked back at his brother. There was a flood of feelings between them. He wasn’t crazy about feeling all these emotions. He’d found a settled and happy place, and now things were changing on him. Again. He wouldn’t have it.

“Cas and I are going to California,” he announced. “We’re gonna finish school. And I’m going to Stanford.”

“You’ll finish school,” John agreed. “But not in California. We’re not letting you out of our sight, not ever again.”

“You can’t tell me what to do.”

“I’m your father, you do what I tell you,” John said, turning his stern gaze on his son. 

“Or what?” Sam demanded. “You’ll call the cops? What are they gonna say when they see I’ve had every bone in my body broken. Twice? Or when they see the scars?” Getting up, he moved to Castiel’s side and put his arm around his waist. “You don’t get to stop me, or to tell me anything, anymore,” Sam said, his voice rising even as his dad got up. 

Dean slipped between them, making sure they kept their distance from one another. He’d really missed his little brother, but he had not missed the incessant fighting between Sam and their dad. “Dad, shut up. Sam, stop being an ass.”

Both John and Sam turned to look at Dean, neither of them pleased by Dean’s comments. 

“Sam, it’s going to take some work to get school records made up for you and-and-and Castiel. Dad knows the people who can do it. And if you want to go to college,” Dean looked at his father, practically seeing the steam coming out of his ears, “you’ll need good transcripts.”

Sam wanted to argue that he could come up with transcripts, too, but the truth was his dad could make it happen with his eyes closed. 

“Dad...if it’s what Sammy wants...what he really wants...you and I can trade out keeping an eye on him. Making sure he’s safe for a few years.” Dean turned back to Sam. “But you gotta agree to keep hunting, because you’ve gotta stay sharp to stay safe. At least part time hunting.”

“I don’t _have to do anyth--_ ” Sam hotly countered until Castiel broke in.

“Sam and I have lots of plans. Places to see. Things to do.” Castiel looked adoringly at Sam. “We could hunt some. At least until we get tired of traveling all over the place. Then maybe we could have a research library for hunters or something! You love libraries,” Castiel suggested. “You could teach college maybe. Something. We’ll figure it out.”

Sam looked down at the floor. “Castiel wants to be a hunter.” Cas had said as much. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do.” He looked up and locked gazes with Dean. “But I’m living my own life now. My dreams. And no one gets to tell me what they are. Not the screws. And not you two. I’m going for a walk.” 

Pulling away from Cas, Sam padded to the door and left without bothering to put his shoes on. He needed some air, and to think. _It’s like the walls are crumbling down on me again. Everyone wants something from me. Like I’m their little puppet to control. I can’t stand it, Cas.... I won’t stand it._

 _I don’t want anything from you. Well, I want you. All of you. And I want you to be safe, and I think that’s all they want. The only way they know how to keep you safe is for you to hunt. We can find other ways. Just...don’t be sad. I’ll help you build fresh walls._ Castiel turned back to the two Winchesters. 

“He’s stubborn. But he’s also spent the last six or seven years being told what to eat, what to wear, when to wake, who to interrogate, who to hurt, and who to help. We escaped. We want our freedom to eat chocolate bars for breakfast. To go barefoot. To wear jeans and t-shirts and cowboy boots and sunglasses. To watch TV all we want. To sleep and wake when we want.” Castiel’s eyes turned hard. “And you don’t get to come in here and tell him to fall in line and that he has to do what you tell him. If that’s what you’re about, you can leave. And you should get your own room. This is our room and we’re not sharing, even if you decide to stay and play nice.” 

John’s eyes narrowed. He could break this boy into two if he wanted. But the look on Dean’s face stopped him from doing anything rash. 

Wiping his hand on his jeans, John gave a nod. “You boys tell him that I love him. I want what’s best for him. Maybe we can work something out. But with that yellow eyed bastard just waiting for him...” John shook his head.

“Azazel? Azazel’s back in Hell. At least until he crawls out again. But I think I put him back in pretty deep. I think it’ll take a while for him to get out. And we’ve got symbols to protect us from possession now.” Castiel pulled down the collar of his t-shirt. “We’re gonna get tattoos. Course he could still burn it off, but it’s something.” Castiel shrugged and snagged another piece of pizza from the box.

“What did you say? Azazel’s _gone?_ You sent him to Hell?” John gave a hard laugh. “What did you do, _talk_ him out of taking my boy? Or warn him? Wait, you scared him with....” Waving his hand through the air as if he wasn’t about to waste more time, he announced. “I’ll get us the room next door. Make sure your brother stays safe.”

Castiel’s eyes darkened. “Don’t underestimate me. I know how to do more than exorcise. I smote him back to Hell,” Castiel growled. He wanted to show his wings, he really did, but John Winchester _was_ a hunter and Castiel was absolutely _not_ human. He didn’t know if he really was an angel, but humans didn’t have great big feathered wings that they could make appear and disappear. And Castiel knew he was susceptible to weapons and John Winchester was packing.

Smote. It was a strange word for a boy of about sixteen to use. John took note of it and gave Castiel a nod. Then he walked out of the room, leaving the two of them behind.

“Is your dad always an ass? Or just to his newly found son and that son’s boyfriend?” Castiel asked.

“Don’t you talk about my fath--what?” Dean stopped mid-sentence. Sure Sam had put his arm around the kid’s waist, but they’d been through hell and back. And the kid had squeezed Sam’s thigh...and there was only one bed, but maybe the motel was out of doubles...

“He’s my boyfriend.”

“No, Sammy’s not...he couldn’t be...just, uh--”

“We’re gay. Deal with it,” Castiel said.

“Holy crap,” Dean said sinking down onto the bed. “Really? _Really?_ ”

“Yeah. If I wasn’t already with Sam, I’ll admit, I’d think you’re kinda hot. Not nearly as sexy as Sam though.

Dean closed his eyes and shook his head as he lifted his hand, showing Castiel his palm. “Stop. Don’t wanna hear it. No offense but I don’t need my little brother’s...boyfriend...hitting on me. Besides, Sam’s already pissed off enough at us. At me.”

Castiel smiled. “Mostly at your dad, I think.”

“Yeah, nothing new there,” Dean said as he bit into another piece of pizza.

* * * 

A half hour later, Sam came back. He mentally asked Cas to send Dean out, and sat on the curb, waiting for him.

Dean stepped out, not sure how he missed hearing Sam call for him when Castiel said he’d heard it clearly. He wasn’t really expecting to find Sam there, but rather, that the kid was just trying to chase him out of the room. When he saw Sam, Dean breathed a little easier and sat down on the curb next to him, stretching out his legs.

“Feel better?” Dean asked him.

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, then he looked over at Dean, studying his face. “I’m taller,” he pointed out. 

“Shaddup,” Dean groused. “You’re supposed to be my _little_ brother.” With a soft sigh he said. “Missed you. A lot. Every night. No one to kick me under the covers. No one to snore in my ear. And in the day, no one to steal the last of the cereal or last of the peanut M &Ms. It’s massively sucked. But not like the way your life sucked. I’m sorry, Sammy. So’s Dad.”

Sam nodded. “Every time I heard a noise at night, I thought it was you. Coming to steal me back.” He swallowed. “At Christmas, we got real presents, but all I wanted was the stupid pink bike you stole for me. I...” He sniffed, then turned and gave Dean a hug. A real one. “I missed you, man. We missed out. On everything,” he said. “Everything.” Tears coursed down his cheeks for the first time since leaving that hellish school.

Dean hugged Sam tightly. “It’s not over. I mean, not unless you want it to be. We got the rest of our lives, Dude. There’s still some growing up in you. Hell, in me. There are still some firsts, I’m sure, that we can have.” Reluctantly, Dean released his brother. “And...we have some stuff for you. In one of Dad’s storage lockers. You have birthday and Christmas presents from the time you went missing. And pictures. And journals. Remember I said I’d write you every day? Well, maybe not every day, but I wrote you letters, telling you everything that was happening. Still do. Some pictures I took of girls I met though I guess you’re not going to really appreciate them since you go for guys. If I’d have known, I’d have taken pics of baseball or football players instead of cheerleaders for you.” He watched Sam to see if Castiel was really telling the truth about his brother being gay. Not that it really mattered to him. It was just kind of a surprise. 

Using the heel of his hand, Sam wiped away his tears. “You did?” It warmed up a place inside his heart that had been cold and barren for a very long time. “And who said I can’t appreciate them? But it would be nice if you had some soccer players in there too, guys,” he clarified. “Is Jo one of your girls?” he asked. 

“Once again proving I did learn to write, Bitch. And no, Jo and I are not, and never have been a thing. For one thing, her mother would kill me.”

“You’re afraid of her _mother?_ That’s a first, unless you’ve changed,” Sam laughed, remembering Dean’s adventures dodging the parents of the girls he’d keep out too late or whatever. 

“Cas?” he called out both orally and mentally. “Join us,” he said, looking over his shoulder when Cas appeared at the door. 

Castiel came out and sat down by Sam, taking his hand. “Hey, I’ve never seen fireworks, not in real life, and I saw a place that sold some. Think we could buy some and go out in the desert and set them off?” He looked past Sam and at Dean. “You can come, too. Sam said you like fireworks. That you even snuck him out one night so you two could watch them.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, surprised, but pleased Sam had talked about him, which meant he had thought about him during his years in that horrible place. “Yeah. That would be fun. They won’t be as big as the fireworks we saw, but it’ll still be fun. And hey, this is Vegas. Might be some fireworks shows around here. If Sam wants to do it, I mean. It’s his choice, after all,” he said, looking pointedly at his younger brother.

Sam banged his elbow into Dean’s ribs. “You’re so obvious.” Laughing softly, he looked up at the sky, then at Cas and gave a nod. “We’ll get fireworks. It’ll be fun. Oh, and Dean’s gonna sneak us into a Vegas show. It’s called Thunder Down Under.” Giving Dean an innocent grin, Sam relaxed, feeling, for the first time since the arrival of his family, that maybe his plans wouldn’t be shot to hell. 

“I am?” Dean said, thinking hard as to what the show was. His eyes grew in size. “Oh. The strippers from Australia? I’m gonna sneak you in...?” Dean closed his mouth and looked at Sam, then at Castiel. “Uh, Yeah. I am.”


	10. Chapter 10

[Two Days later]

Dean had told his father not to ask where they were going, just that Sam and Cas both needed good fake IDs that said they were over 21. The one Sam had doctored up would do in a pinch, but it wasn’t convincing.

Getting an ID picture that would pass scrutiny was a bit more difficult when it came to Castiel. His wide-eyed innocence made him seem young. But once they managed to get a decent picture of him, the fake IDs were no problem.

Dean got show tickets, but insisted on coming along. If Sam or Cas got nailed for being there, Dean wanted to be there to get them out. Besides, he knew his dad didn’t want to let Sam out on his own, worried they might lose him all over again. It took some convincing, but he’d even convinced his dad to go out on the town and enjoy himself, not having to worry about trying to find Sam anymore. Dean and his dad could finally actually go to sleep at night without those lingering worries and doubts about whether Sam was even alive. Still, old habits were hard to get rid of.

Castiel had never even seen anything like this city packed with people. And once they got into the show, he found that they were surrounded by women. Quite a few of them seemed to take notice of the few males in the room. When he saw some of them eyeing his boyfriend, he put his arm around Sam’s waist and tugged him closer. _Just remember you’re taken. Don’t make me smite anyone._

 _I don’t think anyone will notice me when they see the guys on stage._ Sam drew his chair closer to Castiel’s and leaned into him, though he was taking in the sights. Having seen his brother chat up several women and even talk a cocktail waitress into serving the three of them free drinks, Sam rolled his eyes. “Maybe you should have a stack of paper with your phone numbers,” he suggested, reaching for the free fruity drink the waitress had brought and leaving the beer untouched.

Dean grinned and leaned in. “Nah. I get their numbers. I don’t give out mine. If you weren’t already taken, it would have been one of the things I’d have taught you.”

Castiel took Sam’s free hand and interlaced their fingers. “Yep, he’s absolutely taken. But he can look. Might even let him touch. A little.”

Dean looked at Castiel then at Sam. “Dude. Good choice in a boyfriend,” he said approvingly to Sam.

“I can touch? What happened to the smiting?” Sam asked staring at Castiel.

“You can touch. I didn’t say they could,” Castiel said smugly. 

Laughing, Sam squeezed Castiel’s hand. “I don’t think anyone will be trying to climb over you just to get to me. Try your drink, it’s really good. And maybe Dean’s girlfriend will bring us more.” _If we offer to have him meet her in the parking lot,_ he added, only for Castiel’s benefit. He wasn’t sure yet how far he could go with Dean. Sometimes it felt like he’d never left and everything was pretty much fair game. Other times, he remembered that they were strangers in some ways. Sometimes, in too many ways. 

_She’s pretty hot. I bet he wouldn’t mind at all. Have you figured out how we’re going to tell your dad and brother about the wings? And the telepathy?_ Castiel picked up the drink and tasted it. “It is good. Can we get appetizers, too?”

“Dean ordered some,” Sam answered, then locked gazes with Cas. _We’re not telling them. I won’t risk it. Everything could change if they knew, everything. Dean... I dunno, but you can’t forget he is a hunter. And Dad... yeah, I think he’d try to separate us so fast it would make your head spin. We can’t tell them, not until we’re sure they can’t take you from me._ Leaning in, he kissed Castiel’s cheek. _When we’re older, or we’re sure you can call up your powers at will._

Castiel smiled and nodded. He trusted Sam to make the calls about his family. Sucking on the thin straw in his drink hard enough his cheeks hollowed out, he gave Sam a mischievous look. _I told your brother I thought he was hot, but not nearly as hot or sexy as you._

Sam frowned and looked between Cas and Dean, then back. “Are you crushing on Dean?” he asked, his voice rising and forgetting to use telepathy.

Dean’s attention snapped to his brother and Cas. “What?”

Castiel laughed. “Will it make you all jealous and possessive-like? And hey, he is hot. If only he were gay,” he said loudly enough so the women nearby could hear.

Pulling his hand free, Sam glared. “That’s not funny.” Feeling Dean’s hand on his back, Sam shook him off too and reached for the beer. “Maybe you two should get a room...”

Castiel stopped him from picking up the beer and captured Sam’s face between his hands. “I’m teasing. You’re the only one I have eyes for, doofus.” He kissed Sam soundly on the lips. _And I’m trying to get the girls to pay attention to him instead of you. Cause I am all jealous and possessive-like._

“You are?” Sam was still trying to work out whether Castiel was teasing when the lights went down. He’d never heard so much screaming in his life. Well, maybe at a football game he’d gone to when he’d been a kid, but that was nothing compared to this.

The curtains went up and revealed five men on the stage, dressed as a cop, fireman, doctor, utility worker, and a professor. Course their clothing was tight and revealed skin that their real life counterparts would not be showing off during work. Fog blew across the stage, partially blocking their view, and then some lights went on and the men were dancing to some high energy music.

Sam sat back, laughing a little, but paying rapt attention. There were differences in the dancers’ styles and bodies and very quickly, he mentally picked his favorites. 

When they started to take their tops off, the audience went wild. Sam glanced at Castiel. “If we run out of money, you’re getting up there.”

“Uh-uh. You get too jealous,” Castiel answered. “But you’re going to dance like that for me tonight, right?” he asked, pointing to the moves one of the dancers was making that involved some nice hip thrusts and gyrations. 

“No. No...” Sam gave him a look like he was nuts, and went back to watching. Occasionally, he watched Cas from under his lashes, and they talked. A lot. _Telepathy sure helps when everyone’s screaming._

As the entertainers moved across the stage, Sam found that some things worked for him, and others didn’t. _No bikini briefs for you. Like ever._ He held his breath, _But a belt buckle like that... oh yeah..._

 _I like the muscle shirts,_ Cas said. _We’re buying you some of those like tomorrow. Buying enough extra that I can rip a few of them off you without feeling guilty._ Castiel’s gaze went to a dark-haired dancer. When the man’s eyes met his, he had a strange feeling he knew him. He couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away. _Who is he?_

_Gabriel. Come on, say it with me. Gabe-Ri-El. Gabriel. Good Job, Castiel._

Castiel’s eyes widened and he looked at Sam to see if Sam had heard the strange voice inside his head, too. 

_You can rip ‘em off me anytime you like. Which one?_ Sam asked, _Guy with the long hair? I didn’t know you had a thing for long hair... but his abs..._ Yeah, he lost his train of thought. Then everything stopped.

Everything.

The music. The dancers, many of them frozen mid-stride or in mid-air as they’d been performing karate kicks. The audience. Dean. Everyone. Everyone but himself and Castiel.

 _I love you. And shut up._ Sam started to stand up, one hand on Dean’s shoulder, trying to de-freeze him. 

Castiel gripped Sam’s arm and stared at the dancer who was walking across their table now. “I know you.”

The man’s appearance changed and he began clapping. “Very good. You know, you’re pretty damned hard to track down. Smart, putting those symbols on your vessel’s ribs. But why are you hiding from us, Castiel?”

Castiel shook his head and got to his feet. His wings popped into being and spread wide in obvious threat.

“Hold up there, Batman,” the dancer said, pausing. “No need to get nuclear. I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to take you home.” He briefly frowned at the sight of Castiel’s wings. 

Sam yanked his arm away from Castiel, and put his arm across his chest, pushing him slightly back so he could stand in front of him. “And who are you? Robin?” _Exorcise him if he gets close_

“Don’t push me, Sammy,” the dancer said, waving his finger back and forth at him. He snagged a drink from the table and up-ended it. “I love humans. They know how to have fun. When they’re not being ass-wipes.” He looked at Castiel. “Gabriel. I’m Gabriel. Arch-angel. Hello?”

Castiel put his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “I do...know him but...I can’t...I don’t remember you, Gabriel.”

Gabriel gave a long whistle and, jumping off the table, landed in the aisle and walked up to them, studying Castiel. “Winchester, get your pink panties out of a twist. I’m not here to hurt anyone.”

 _Arch angel. Is he kidding? He doesn’t even have wings._ Sam didn’t budge, but he was definitely nervous. “You’re not taking him anywhere,” he said, hoping he could back it up. Somehow the gun he had tucked at his backside wasn’t reassuring against someone who could make time freeze.

Ignoring Sam, Gabriel looked into Castiel’s eyes and then scanned over his wings. “What happened to you?” he murmured, then straightened. “Do you know who your commander is? Which battalion you’re a member of? What your last battle was before you fell off the face of the Earth?”

Castiel shook his head. “I’m with Sam. It’s him and me. I’m not leaving. And where are your wings if you’re an arch angel?”

Gabriel laughed. “You sound like the skinny dweeb here.” He waved his hand and his dark shadow-wings appeared. “Can’t bring the whole white feathers out, the electricity would blow the entire Las Vegas grid. Most of your feathers are black,” he said with a shake of his head. “Castiel, that means your Grace is more tattered than Tarzan’s loincloth after meeting up with Jane.”

Sam bit back his retort. Finally it was sinking in that this man, this arch angel, was like Castiel. He might be a threat to their staying together, but if he was not, then he had information Castiel needed. _Ask him what your Grace is. Ask him... ask him how to get your memory back, and how to control your wings and powers._ He slipped his hand over Castiel’s wings, lightly ruffling his feathers.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “I can hear you. You’re talking on Castiel’s angel radio. You’re just that really soft annoying background static that’s oh so easy to ignore.” Gabriel looked between the two. “Grace. It’s what makes an angel an angel. As in Holy Grace? You God-given powers. Literally. Without it, you’re pretty much just human.” For just a moment sympathy touched his eyes. “Your Grace has been torn almost beyond recognition. That vessel lost its human soul and you probably jumped in it to hide. That last battle, the one where we thought you’d died, it was bad. You woke up in the empty vessel, and only remembered your name. An angel never forgets their name.” He gave a sigh. “Your Grace will heal, but it’s going to take a while.” He looked at Sam and then back at Castiel. “You really in love with this overgrown kid?”

Castiel nodded.

“You?” he said, looking hard at Sam.

Sam stared back for a long moment, then gave a one shouldered shrug, inching closer to Castiel and digging his fingers deeper into his feathers, like he wasn’t going to release him. “Why do you ask?” Despite the bravado, Sam was as afraid of losing Castiel to Cas’ family, as he was of losing him to his own family, if the Winchesters found out Cas was different.

“Just answer the question, Bozo,” Gabriel said.

Sam glanced at Cas, then looked back at the jerk. “Yeah. I do. I love him,” he said, lowering his hand to his side and searching for Castiel’s hand. 

Castiel took Sam’s hand and held it so tightly he was almost crushing it. “So...?”

“Fine,” Gabriel said with a huff. “Free choice and all that. It doesn’t normally apply to angels, but you’re more human right now than angel, wings or not. By the time Sam kicks off, your Grace will be healing up and you’ll be ready to come to Heaven to finish getting your brains shoved back in your ethereal cranium. But,” and he held up his finger. “No random smiting, or big deal healing or any other miracle worthy crap. Play human. You want to fly around, fine, but be discreet. I’ll come back around to collect you when your hero here moves on.”

Sam’s heart lifted. He wasn’t taking Castiel. He was a jerk, but he wasn’t taking Cas, and that was good enough for Sam. “You wanna drop off the angel instruction manual? Or tell us where we can learn a little more about him, what... what he is and how to control his mojo?” 

“Internet. Time Life Angels. The Bible. You figure it out. He’s an angel, one of God’s warriors.” He turned his attention back on Castiel. “Just relax, I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it in fifty or a hundred years. And just so you know, the whiter your feathers get, the more healed your Grace is, or you’ve tapped into some God-given abilities. Call me if something big comes up and don’t let any more demons know you’re down here and vulnerable.”

Castiel gave Sam’s hand a slight squeeze and finally let go of his death grip on him. “Okay. ...Thanks.”

“I’ll be seeing you. And you,” he looked at Sam, “take care of him.”

As suddenly as the world had frozen, it unfroze. Castiel found he was sitting, his wings hidden, and holding Sam’s hand. No one seemed to notice anything had happened.

“That was... bizarre.” Sam’s gaze slid to Castiel. “And he’s not at all like what I imagined an angel would be like.”

 _And I am?_ Castiel asked, giving him a smirk.

“Yeah... sure.” Releasing Cas’ hand, Sam dropped his hand under the table, brushing his palm over Cas’ groin before settling it down on his thigh. “Very.” The look he gave Castiel said he was lying through his teeth. 

Castiel’s took in a sharp breath. “You are a lousy liar,” he told him and leaned in, kissing him. At least until Dean smacked him lightly across the back of the head, making him jump.

“Dudes! I paid hard earned money to get you two in here to watch the show and you’re only ogling each other.”

Looking a little sheepish, Castiel shrugged. “I got all I need to look at. For the rest of my life.”

It was Sam’s turn to stare at Cas. “I didn’t know you …” Sensing Dean’s eyes on him, Sam switched to mental talk. _You’re a romantic. And a liar, but still a romantic._ Squeezing Castiel’s thigh, he turned his attention back to the stage.

 _What makes you think I’m a liar?_ Castiel said, leaning against Sam and smiling. For the first time he could ever remember, he felt at home in his own skin.

Sometime the dancers’ antics had them laughing because it was over the top sexual. Sometime it had Sam holding his breath or imagining it was Cas and himself up there, with only each other. A couple of times, when he was going to say something to Dean, he saw Dean in a lip lock, and it wasn’t with just one girl either.

“I _knew_ he was gonna turn out like that,” he told Cas, chuckling under his breath. 

Then the dancers started selecting women from the audience, and once the ladies got on stage, the dancers rubbed themselves all over the women. For some reason, that got Sam blushing. He was just real glad it was unlikely that they’d pull any guys up from the audience. It was still fun to watch though.

When the show ended, Castiel made Sam get a picture taken with the dancers. Dean just hoped they didn’t show it to the elder Winchester until he’d had a chance to talk to his dad. While Cas drooled over the picture, Dean handed the car keys to Sam.

“Got me a ride. Go straight back to the motel. I’ll see you in the AM,” Dean said, giving a charming smile to a cluster of three women. 

“You’re.... letting us drive the Impala?” Sam asked. Oh, he could understand why he was being given the honor of driving it, but that didn’t mean he could believe it. “You... get that neither of us took driving lessons,” he asked. _Oh God, if he says yes, we can go around town_ , Sam said to Cas, trying not to show his excitement to Dean. Their plans of taking Vegas by storm had kind of been thwarted by the arrival of his family.

“To drive straight back to the motel, yeah. You did fine with that Jeep of yours. And I never took official lessons either. Just don’t do anything stupid and I swear, if you put one scratch on her, I’ll end you.” Dean wrapped Sam’s fingers around the keys. “Straight back to the motel.”

“Yeah... course. Uh... don’t break anything,” he advised, seeing the three ladies tugging on Dean. “Bye.” He waited for Dean to get dragged out of the theater, then high-fived Castiel. 

As they walked out, he noted, “Gabriel said no smiting and no miracles, but he didn’t say anything about jackpots... ya think you have the mojo?”

Castiel grinned. “I can probably manage a little something.”

*

It was nearly dawn when they got back to the motel room. They’d paid the taxes on their winnings. Castiel had been very careful to only use his mojo a couple times. Otherwise, he let luck rule and sometimes they lost almost as much as they’d won up to that time. He set the big duffel of cash down and flopped onto the bed.

“That was awesome!” he chuckled happily.

“I kept thinking they’d send someone after us, like in the movies,” Sam admitted, locking the door and sighing as he looked down at the bag of salt next to the door. “I don’t think it’s really necessary, not when we’ve got an angel in the room,” he said, looking over his shoulder. It had been his dad’s idea, passed on through Dean. 

“Hey, don’t forget, I have been possessed before. I have no problem with it and we shouldn’t get cocky about what I can do. Gabriel did say I was more human than not right now. And if something as simple as salt works? It’ll be nice not to have to sleep with one eye open.” Castiel patted the space on the bed beside him but then sat up. “Oh, wait, you were going to dance for me!”

“You know... you’re more Winchester than I’ll ever be,” Sam groused but went ahead and poured the salt across the threshold. There was salt at the windows already, and they hadn’t opened them. 

“Ha,” Sam rolled his eyes, but teased by playing with his over shirt as he lifted his hip a few times and made a kissy face aimed at Castiel. 

Castiel cheered and hooted for him, blowing kisses at him and acting like Sam had several people to choose from, waving his hands around like an idiot. Then he grabbed a pack of bills from the duffel and waved them at Sam.

“Uh huh...” Shaking his head, Sam undid his over-shirt all the way and swung it around overhead a couple times, before throwing it at Castiel. “And if I do this... what’s my prize?” he asked, hitting the lights so that only the lamp on the nightstand was on. 

Grinning, Castiel didn’t hesitate. “A date with an angel. And I’ll let you play with my feathers.” He batted his eyelashes coyly at him and focused long enough to draw his wings out from hiding.

“So you like when I play with your wings, huh?” As if he hadn’t guessed. He’d noticed how Cas always asked him to ‘do it again’ if he touched where his wings were attached to his body, or when he ran his fingers through his feathers. Plus his eyes sometimes went kind of out of focus when Sam stroked his wings for too long. 

Grabbing the hem of his shirt, Sam started to slide it up his body, one side at a time, swinging his hips and trying not to laugh. This really would be much better if they both were drunk, but he hadn’t dared drink when he was in charge of driving the Impala.

“I like you playing with them as much as you like running your fingers through my feathers. Don’t deny it. You like making me go all silly,” Castiel said, stretching his wings forward and capturing Sam in them. He began to slowly curl his wings, forcing Sam closer, not that Sam was putting up any fight.

It would never stop amazing Sam how Castiel’s wings could take up a whole room, or just a small shower stall. How they could size themselves to the space Castiel was in.

Moving forward slowly, letting the wings push him one step at a time, Sam pulled the t-shirt off and swung it around in the air, then slipped it between his thighs and moved it back and forth, like he was towel drying himself, before letting the material slip from his fingers.

As he undid his jeans, Sam opened his arms wide, letting his fingers grasp the feathers behind him, and then he shook his ass against them and started to undulate his hips, bending his knees and moving up and down. “C’mon Cas, go silly for me,” he whispered, turning around and pulling Cas’ wings close, making moves to make it look like he was humping them. 

His feathers were so sensitive to the slightest wind, the slightest touch, that Sam’s touch on his feathers made him shiver and he swallowed back his groan. When Sam was thrusting against them, Castiel couldn’t help but curl his wings tighter as his dick grew hard. 

“Mmmm,” he moaned approvingly as he stood. “Let me take off your jeans,” Castiel begged, nudging Sam closer and closer to him. 

“I dunno, I didn’t see the dancers let the audience do that.” Despite his words, Sam turned back around and let himself be pushed toward Cas. When he reached Castiel, he put his hand in the middle of his chest and shoved him onto the bed, then straddled his thighs. Placing his hands on Cas’ shoulders, he raised his hips up and down, leaned back and did it again, then closed his arms around Castiel’s shoulders. “Unzip me.” His eyes burned with a fire all for Cas. 

“Ungh,” Castiel complained as he fell backwards, his wings opening wider to help him balance. With Sam sitting on his thighs, his member grew harder, pressing against his own pants, its outline growing more distinct with each movement Sam made. His own eyes grew hungrier, lustier, as Sam leaned back and gyrated. When Sam’s arms closed around him, his own hands went to Sam’s sides and he ran his hands up and down his silky soft skin. He focused on the scars Sam had gained through the years at the hands of the screws. Tracing his index finger down along one of the worst ones, he saw the scar vanished in the wake of his touch. His eyes widened in surprise, but he was pleased. He would have to explore what else his touch could do.

Smiling, he took hold of one side of Sam’s jeans and with his other hand, gripped the pull of the zipper and began lowering it slowly. His wings beat slowly back and forth, and he curled them in to brush Sam’s back on every down stroke. Once the zipper was open, he reached in gently caressing Sam through his shorts.

“Mmm,” Sam sighed and leaned in, bringing his mouth over Castiel’s and tangling their tongues together. _Angels aren’t supposed to cheat. Did you see any of the women on stage doing this._ His eyes fluttered closed and he deepened the kiss, pressing himself harder against Castiel, rubbing against his hand. 

Feeling soft wings fanning against his back, pressing into him, he reached up and started stroking Castiel’s wings. _So big. So strong. And needing attention,_ he teased.

 _How am I cheating?_ Castiel asked, running his hand along Sam’s shaft, rubbing it through the fabric, occasionally giving it a light squeeze. The touch of Sam’s fingers along his wings had Castiel’s brain short-circuiting now and again as he canted his hips up to try and get pressure on his own hard member. _Now who’s cheating?_

 _I’m just doing my job... I’m the dancer,_ Sam reminded him. Lifting up onto his knees, Sam reached higher, gripping Castiel’s wings a little tighter as he swayed forward, brushing his navel over Cas’ mouth, and leaning back and moaning when he felt the touch of his warm wet tongue. 

“Keep your hands off,” Sam said, suddenly sliding down and grinding his ass against Castiel’s hard cock, staring into his eyes, smiling when he saw Cas’ pupils were dilated. “Love that... never get tired of it,” he said, his breaths fanning hotly.

“Thunder has nothing on you,” Castiel murmured, wishing Sam had stayed longer with his stomach pressed up against him. He hadn’t managed to leave a mark on Sam and he wanted to. He desperately wanted to. Though when Sam was pressing against his needy cock, Cas’ mind sort of checked out and he let out with long, low groans of approval. Gripping Sam’s hips, he held Sam there as he pressed his need against Sam’s ass.

“I want you. I want to touch you. I want you to touch me. I want everything,” Castiel said, leaning forward and kissing Sam almost roughly.

Sam’s breath whooshed out of him, but he gave as good as he got, putting one hand behind Castiel’s head and pulling him close. The need in Castiel’s voice, in his touch, it burned away every last thought he had, and every last joke on the tip of his tongue. 

After they kissed each other breathless, he moved his mouth over Cas’ ear. “I know a way you can have it all. Ever hear of a 69?” Just asking the question had Sam trembling. 

“No...I know the Impala is a sixty-seven. Does is have to do with a car?” Castiel asked, running his fingers through Sam’s hair as he occasionally pressed up with his hips to get needed pressure on his still hard cock. 

“No. It has to do with this,” Sam rose again, and cupped himself, “and this,” he added, this time palming Castiel’s hard shaft through his jeans. “Oh... and with that _other thing_ you promised me. You know... blowing.” He blew lightly across Cas’ face then sat back on his lap, thrusting and grinding against him.

Castiel gave him a baffled look. “Okay...what...how do we start? Talk fast or I’m gonna start kissing you again.”

“No. You’re gonna be kissing me _somewhere else_ ,” Sam told him, getting off his lap and sliding off the bed to stand next to it, then finding Castiel’s wing barring him from moving farther. “Not going anywhere.” He ran his face against Castiel’s wings. The underside was so soft and downy, he loved how it felt. “Just getting my pants off,” he said. 

“You want the blow job?” Castiel asked excitedly, standing up and pulling his wings back in, slowly caressing Sam’s face in the process. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of Sam’s lips and hot breath on his wings. He grabbed hold of the belt loops of Sam’s jeans and tugged him close, then began working Sam’s pants down as he started kissing his way down Sam’s chest.

Sam put his hand on Castiel’s head and watched as he slid down his body. His blood surged to his already hard cock, and he bit his lower lip when Castiel’s face was level with his groin. “Yeah... I want one. Want it bad,” he said thickly. “But if you really _want it all,_ we need to get into _formation._ My mouth... on your cock. Yours wrapped around my dick. As Castiel lifted his head up, Sam felt his knees go weak and grasped Cas’ shoulder for balance.

“Yes,” Castiel said breathlessly and grabbed Sam around the waist, lifting him up as if he weighed almost nothing. Turning, he practically tossed Sam onto the bed and grabbed Sam’s shoes, tugging them off hastily, but taking more time and care removing Sam’s pants the rest of the way.

“I could try hovering maybe?” Castiel suggested as he kicked off his own shoes and quickly began undoing his jeans.

“Wow... I... I hadn’t thought of that,” Sam admitted, feeling his body tense ten ways from Sunday. He pushed himself up the bed and planted his feet with his knees bent. Lifting his hips, he started to get his shorts off. “Take your clothes off,” he demanded, his eyes roving hotly over Castiel. “Don’t put your wings away.”

“I don’t know that I _can_ hover, but I’ll try.” Castiel dropped his pants and kicked them away, followed by his shorts. He tugged at the shirt but with his wings poking through them, magically in some way, the shirt didn’t really budge much. 

“Without putting my wings away?” Castiel said. He looked down at the shirt. It was just a simple blue polo Sam had bought for him. Licking his lips, he made sure Sam was watching as he grabbed either side of the collar and tugged, ripping the shirt down the middle in the front. With another sharp tug, the shirt tore down the back and he dropped the pieces of fabric onto the floor as his wings spread wide once again.

Writhing at the sight, involuntarily lifting his hips and meeting nothing but air, Sam ordered, “Get over here. Now.” His eyes blazed with desire as Castiel moved closer, his wings proudly stretched out. He reached his arms out to entice him to move closer. “No hovering required,” he said, rolling onto his side.

“Then I guess I don’t need my wings out,” Castiel teased as he climbed onto the bed, his head by Sam’s groin. He spent a moment adjusting his wings so they were balanced, with one spread along the bed to drape off onto the floor, and the other partially open shadowing Sam’s body. “This is my first, you know, giving one, so feedback, welcome.”

Leaning in, he ran his tongue along Sam’s shaft, experimenting, learning its curves and shape, then moved on to his sack, his nose pressed into the soft dark curls.

At the first slide of Castiel’s tongue along his sensitive skin, Sam curled his fingers into the bedding, as if it would ground him. “Great... doing great. More than great. Keep... keep going,” he said, his body suddenly growing feverish. 

Castiel chuckled, blowing hot breath across Sam’s groin. “I don’t need a blow-by-blow. Speaking of, do I stop so you can start?” he asked, then ran his tongue along the underside of Sam’s shaft, wondering if he’d just melted Sam’s brain considering the unintelligible sounds coming from his lover. Licking the drop of precum from Sam’s tip, he then began lightly sucking Sam’s crown.

“Uh... no,” Sam answered weakly. “Knew there was something I should be doing. Oh God... yeah, feels good,” he said, finding himself rolling toward Cas. _If I’d known... I’d have had you on your knees days ago._ He meant it too, as electric heat pulsed through him each time Cas sucked on his crown.

 _So is it called sixty-nine because that’s how old I’ll be before you start working on me, or because it’ll take both of us that many times before we can do it at the same time?_ Castiel said, lightly smacking Sam’s back with a down stroke of his wing. _Honestly, I don’t really care, I’ll take mine second,_ he said as he sucked on and tongued Sam’s sack before taking both balls into his mouth with a smile.

“S... sorry. But... c... could you do that again? With the wings,” Sam pleaded, knowing he was failing big time. “Just... oh my God...” He squeezed his eyes closed when he felt Castiel’s wing on him again, stinging lightly, and then soothing him. _Incredible._

He tried to focus on Castiel’s cock, not that he could miss it when it was so hard, in his face, and begging for attention. As he grasped it, Castiel sucked on him just right and Sam’s fingers loosened as he groaned out his pleasure. “This is harder than I thought,” he croaked, reaching for Cas one more time.

 _Just enjoy,_ Castiel thought to him even though Sam’s touch on his cock had been almost painful he was so sensitive. Since Sam seemed to like the feel of his wing, and he couldn’t deny that he liked feeling his wing brushing over Sam, he began a somewhat erratic rhythm of beating his one wing while he sucked harder on Sam’s dick, pulling it further and deeper into his mouth. He wrapped his tongue around it as best he could, tasting the occasional precum dribbling into his mouth.

Completely incapable of thought, Sam was powerless to do anything but enjoy the sensations running through him. Encased in the wet heat of Castiel’s mouth, his cock throbbed and ached. His body tensed and he had to desperately fight against the urge to thrust his hips. Each time Cas sucked on him with more pressure, he teetered on the verge of pleasure and pain. And the beating of Cas’ wings, touching him practically everywhere, drove him closer to the brink.

Desperate to make this last, and knowing it wouldn’t if he continued at this rate, Sam forced his eyes open. He started to stroke Castiel’s cock, pumping it a few times, before guiding it close to his mouth. He started to stroke it with his tongue, concentrating and licking him to the erratic beat of Castiel’s wing. 

Pleased that Sam seemed to be turned about senseless, Castiel wasn’t prepared for Sam touching him, let alone to feeling the wet warm touch of Sam’s tongue and its pulsing beat. His wing practically froze and he lost the staccato beat he’d been working to. He draped his one wing over Sam, fluttering it against his flesh as he tried to stay focused and continue to suck and caress Sam’s cock in his mouth. 

Sounds of pleasure left Castiel and finally he reached up with his hand and began gently fingering Sam’s balls as he began to slowly bob his head taking Sam deeper and deeper into his mouth.

“Ungh...” Reaching over Cas, Sam stroked and tickled and squeezed his ass, pulling him closer as he took him in, all of him, inside his mouth. He concentrated on breathing and finding a rhythm, relaxing his throat. It would have been easier if Castiel weren’t coaxing moans of pleasure from him and making him crazy. 

Once he got the hang of it, he started bobbing his head almost counterpoint to Castiel’s movements. It was beautiful. It was perfect. _I love you. And I’m not dying,_ he added, hollowing out his cheeks as he sucked. 

“Uhmmm,” Castiel groaned around Sam’s cock, practically humming. _I think I am. In a good way. Love you...oh God...too,_ he thought back to him as he struggled to keep a steady pace and to keep up pleasuring Sam while his own pleasures were running rampant throughout his body. Subconsciously he began to bob his head a little faster, trying to take Sam in deeper at the same time, the heat coiling inside of him almost overwhelming. 

As Sam started to tense, he gripped the base of Castiel’s cock and squeezed, moving his own mouth faster up and down his shaft. _Gonna come... oh God...._ Squeezing his eyes tight, Sam surrendered to the white hot explosion rocking his world. _Come with me_ , he sucked harder, moving his head up and down over Cas

Castiel struggled to swallow all the cum while finding his own body was winding up and moments after Sam began to come, heat flooded his body. His balls tightened so much they almost hurt and his hips jerked uncontrollably in little spasms as he poured his come into Sam’s mouth. Curling his wing tightly around Sam’s body, he gave a last final shudder before collapsing against Sam, letting Sam’s cock slowly slip from his mouth. 

Just managing to keep from gagging at Castiel’s sudden movement, Sam drank every last drop of Castiel’s hot cum, using his tongue to clean him before he too relaxed on the bed. _You sure you haven’t done this? I... I got no words._ Settling for that, he reached down and stroked Castiel’s wing, smiling as he felt it flutter under his palm. 

_Definitely not. Virgin blow job,_ Castiel answered while giving a soft laugh, at least until Sam stroked his wing which made him stretch and writhe against Sam a little bit. “Mmm, let me catch my breath, huh?” he said, finally getting on his knees and turning around so they were both lying the same direction. He fell against Sam, rolling Sam onto his back, then stretched his wings out like a black blanket over both of them.

“Wasn’t trying anything.” This time, he ran his hand over Castiel’s back and ass, under the wings. “I just like touching you.” Snuggling closer, he found his mind drifting to the things Gabriel had said. _Cas? You think 36 is old?_

_Right now? Yeah. Ask me again in twenty years and I’ll tell you it’s young. Why?_

_My dad’s forty something. He looks old._ A little troubled, Sam drew an imaginary circle on Castiel’s back. _What Gabe said... you know? I’m going to look too old for you in ten years. And then I’ll just look real old. I mean, you’ll be... Maybe I will be hunter. Then you won’t be stuck with an old guy. I mean based on statistics... not my dad._ He gave a laugh, but it was forced.

 _Sam,_ Castiel said nuzzling his neck. _Gabe said I’m in a human body. Since I’ve been in the body, I’ve aged and grown. No reason to think I won’t keep aging. And I’m okay with an old guy. So long as you are, too. I mean, I’m like...millions of years old, I guess? I think I got you beat on that. So I’d like to be stuck with you for a really, really, long time. Okay?_ Castiel pulled back and looked into Sam’s eyes. “Definitely so long as you keep looking at me like that.” 

“You ever seen Highlander?” He searched Castiel’s face, then gave a nod. “If you’ve grown then maybe you will some more.” He wasn’t completely convinced, but he was hopeful. “And if you remember more? You know, you might start thinking of me as that ‘bozo,’” he said, using Gabriel’s word. “Look, if either of those things happen. Can we have a deal? You... you tell me. You straight out tell me, and... yeah, don’t keep it inside or fool around or...”

“I guess we’ll just have to figure out how to damage my Grace a little bit if I start getting too fancy-schmancy. Cause really? I don’t ever want to think I’m such hot shit that I can’t be in love. I’ll tell you, so long as you tell me if...well, if you find you can’t keep loving an angel, okay?” He stroked Sam’s cheek, smiling adoringly at him.

“It’s not gonna happen.” Slanting his mouth over Castiel’s, Sam kissed him slowly, tenderly. _Every day with you is the best day of my life. Don’t ever quote me._

_Me too. And you can quote me all you want._

* * * 

John gave Castiel a nod as he walked into the room with a groaning Dean in tow. His other son wasn’t around, but he could hear the shower going and he’d learned that Sam liked to sleep in and was grouchier in the mornings.

“Rough night?” he asked, as he went to sit down at the table. 

“We were up very late,” Castiel said with a nod. “But it was a lot of fun. This is the first big town I’ve ever been in and there’s so much to see and so many lights and shows and everything.” He smiled. “It’s very cool. Did you have a nice evening? We could all maybe go see another show or concert or something.”

“Uneventful,” John answered, like he was glad about it. “You saw a show? What show?”

Dean’s eyes widened. He hadn’t yet told his father about Sam and Cas being gay or what they’d gone to see. “Just a boring show. So, you hungry, Cas?”

“It wasn’t boring,” Castiel said. “They were foreign dancers. Scantily clad foreign dancers,” he said, try to hide his amusement at seeing Dean squirm. “Dean was just more interested in the women we were sitting next to.”

“Big surprise there. Soon as Sam’s out, I thought I’d take you boys out for lunch and then we have an appointment. All four of us,” he said, drumming his fingers on the table and looking over at the door leading to the bathroom. 

_Your dad’s here. Don’t come out naked. When are we going to tell him? About us?_ Castiel asked Sam. He tilted his head and looked at John. “An appointment? For what?”

“Tattoo parlor. That symbol you and Sam keep drawing on yourselves. It’s legit,” John gave a nod. “We’ll all protect ourselves and I’ll breathe a little easier.” 

“Cool. That was on our list of things to do once we got good fake IDs,” Castiel said. “I have a nice drawing of it I’ve been working on.” Getting up, Castiel dug through his backpack and pulled out a small drawing pad and flipped through it. He held it out to John. “It’s a little fancier than the symbol we draw. I made sure it’s all symmetrical and even. I haven’t had a chance to ink it yet. I was trying to make sure we were happy with it and didn’t want to make any more changes.”

Dean leaned over to see the drawing. “That’s really good. What else do you have in there?”

“Not much. Mostly doodles. I haven’t had it all that long. You can look if you want,” he said.

John glanced at it. “I e-mailed a picture to the tat parlor, but you can bring it along. Add all the curly-cues you like.”

The bathroom door opened and Sam walked out with a towel wrapped around his waist. He tried to look surprised at all the company in their room. “We having a party?” he asked, as he walked to the drawer he’d stuffed his shorts into. Sensing the weight of his dad’s gaze, he looked over at him, then went about pulling some shorts on under his towel.

John frowned, watching Sam and waiting for him to turn around again.

 _Damn you look hot,_ Castiel told him wistfully.

Sam turned suddenly, his expression much like he’d just swallowed a bug. Giving Cas a look, he nodded at the jeans on the foot of the bed. “Toss those over?”

Castiel grabbed them and took them over to Sam. _What would you do if I kissed you right now?_ He held the jeans out, smiling seductively at Sam. _I could grope you while I’m at it._

 _Cut it out._ Sam stared into Castiel’s eyes. _Don’t make me laugh, jerk,_ he said, tugging the jeans out of Cas’ hands.

John looked over at Dean. 

“I could really go for some coffee,” Dean said, getting to his feet. “I’m gonna just go check if there’s any in the lobby while Sam finishes getting dressed.”

Castiel bit back his laughter as he went over to the closet and pulled out a green shirt for Sam to wear.

“Hold on. Before you put that shirt on. Turn around, Sam.” 

He hadn’t imagined it. His dad was still looking at him, and he looked pretty damned serious. Shirt in hand, Sam looked back at his dad. “What?”

“What happened to that...” John flicked his finger back and forth, pointing at Sam’s side. “The knife wound. Scar,” he said.

“What scar?” Sam looked down and noticed the jagged scar where he’d been knifed along his abs was gone. He stood there paralyzed for a moment. _Did you...?_

 _Uhm, yeah,_ Castiel said, biting his lower lip. _Just kind of happened._ Castiel took a breath. “I fixed it. Apparently, I can heal or fix stuff like that...sometimes. I’m not really sure how I do it and most times nothing happens.” He gave Sam a small shrug, figuring it was better to admit to it on his own terms even if it did make Sam’s father a little suspicious of him.

“Cas,” Sam said through gritted teeth. _I told you not to tell him. Anything. Dammit..._ He immediately zipped his pants up and crossed in front of Castiel. 

Dean still stood by his father and glanced at Cas, surprised by Cas’ admission. Seeing the position Sam was taking up and the bitchface he was making, he figured a shouting match was about to start between the youngest and eldest Winchesters. He braced himself, ready to jump between them to try to keep them from killing each other.

John shifted in his chair but forced himself to stay seated. “What are you?”

“He’s human, and it’s nothing,” Sam answered for Cas.

“I think it’s time for you to come clean,” John said firmly.

“There’s nothing to...”

John stood. “That’s enough Sam. I want to hear from Castiel.” His gaze remained on Cas. “What are you?”

“He’s not a demon.”

“I know that,” John answered, having tested both of them with holy water. “But he’s not hum--”

“He’s none of your business.”

“Sam.”

“I think it’s time for you to go now,” Sam said, nodding toward the door and walking towards John who’d started toward them.

Castiel grabbed Sam’s biceps, stopping him. “No, Sam. He’s your dad, your family. You just got him back. And your brother. We at least owe him an answer.” 

Castiel looked at the bearded man. “A lot of the kids at the schools have psychic powers because of the demon blood. You think they aren’t human? They are. Me? I have...more than most, but it’s not demon blood that gave it to me. It’s angel mojo. As in God’s angels. Gabriel, the archangel, confirmed it. I’m apparently a...a broken angel. More human than not, he said. I’m not any more dangerous than anyone else. Probably a lot less dangerous than most, honestly.” 

Castiel tilted his head back, a stubborn set to his jaw. “I’m sorry. I’m not really crazy about it either but that’s just the way it is. Sam and I don’t need you to survive, but I’d like to have you in our lives, and I know, deep down, Sam would too. So pick your poison and make your choice, cause Sam and I are staying together, no matter what you say or do.”

John took a few more steps and got into Castiel’s face, ignoring Sam who pushed himself in so they were all within spitting distance. He wagged a finger in Castiel’s face, pointing it at him. “You think you’re an angel because some guy told you he’s Gabriel? How do you know it’s not the same guy who whispered to me about the schools that took Sam away?” he demanded. “You told me I was manipulated. Doesn’t mean you’re not being manipulated or that your hands are clean. How do you know there isn’t something in you that will go off one day. How? It is my job to watch over my sons--”

“Great job--”

“Shut up, Sam,” John growled.

Castiel glanced at Sam. “They’re fair questions, Sam. We accepted Gabriel without any real proof other than he seemed to know who we were, his shadow wings, oh,” Castiel turned his focus back on John, “and his ability to freeze time. You’re a master hunter. Tell me what can stop time. What can stop time that isn’t an angel who would have any interest in lying to me and Sam? Who told me I don’t remember anything because my Holy Grace is tattered to shreds and that’s what makes me an angel. The same thing Azazel said. Before I smote his demon ass back to hell along with all the other demons possessing kids.” Castiel snapped his wings out, making them visible, and demanded, “Explain these to me, too. How come I’ve fucking got feathered wings? If I’m not an angel.”

Sam was seething. Not at his father, but at Castiel. _I’m going to kick your ass later._

John stared hard at the wings that seemed to fluctuate between wings he could see and touch, and shadows that took up the entire room.

“Doesn’t matter what you believe, or what he is,” Sam said, taking Castiel’s hand, though he was tempted to crush it because none of this would have happened if he’d kept his mouth shut. “He saved me from Azazel. Without him, I’d already be dead. So every minute I’m alive and breathing, it’s because of him. Whatever happens later.”

“Dad,” Dean said, “you know I don’t believe in angels but...we should stop and not do anything crazy. Let’s just step back, okay? If...if Cas here is an angel, could Sam be any safer? And if he’s not, we’ve got plenty of time to figure that out.” Dean turned to Cas, eyeing those huge black wings a little nervously. “You good with that, Cas? Research and testing and shit? Proving what you are, so we’re all certain?”

Castiel stared at Dean then at John. “I don’t have anything to prove. I’ve spent my whole life, what I can remember of it anyhow, being a guinea pig and locked up in the school. No. I’m sorry. I won’t be poked and prodded and experimented on. I would like to get a handle on my abilities. If you want to help us research that and figure them out, then I’m good with that.” Castiel took a deep breath and finally managed to make his wings disappear. 

Squeezing Sam’s hand and smiling at him, he headed for the door. “C’mon, Sam. I’m hungry. I want to try Chinese today.” Over his shoulder he said, “You two are welcome to come if you want, but I’m done fighting and arguing. We’ve earned a happy life. I want you two to be part of it, but it’s your choice.”

Dean stepped in front of his father and put his fingers on John’s chest, stopping him from moving. “You piss them off and we may never find them again. I don’t want to lose my little brother a second time. “

John took a couple deep breaths, then gave Dean a nod. “Like I said, lunch is on me.” Slapping Dean on the back to let him know it would be alright, he headed for the open door. 

* * * 

It was nightfall by the time they got back. Each of them was shirtless, none of them wanting a scratchy shirt rubbing over their new tats. Over lunch, they’d agreed that Castiel and Sam would finish up high school in South Dakota. Sam had been ready to insist on California, but Dean had pointed out it would be much easier for him and their father to check up on him and visit, if he was in the middle of the country rather than all the way out on the west coast.

Things had gone okay over lunch. Then his dad had a private talk with him after he’d sent Dean and Castiel off on an errand. He didn’t want to hate his dad, or to hang onto his anger. Cas had been right about that. There had been some tears, but he felt better. Not that he imagined they’d see eye to eye on everything.

Once he and Cas were in their room, Sam dropped down on the bed with his arms stretched out. “I know we gotta hit the road, but does it really have to be at 7?” He turned his head toward Castiel.

“Hey, I’d be happy to hang here for a few more weeks, but we probably shouldn’t risk gambling anymore.” Castiel sat on the bed then leaned back on his elbow. “And if we’re going to finish high school, we’re going to have to get up early for that. And we’re in a desert. Getting an early start won’t kill you, it’ll be cooler than waiting until noon,” Castiel said, growing distracted by Sam’s bare stomach. He leaned down and kissed it, one hand caressing Sam’s side as he sucked flesh into his mouth. _Mmm, want to leave some of my own marks on you..._

 _Uh uh. Told you, you’re not getting any today._ Despite his words, a pleasant shiver traveled over Sam’s skin, giving him goose bumps, and he wasn’t pushing Castiel away. _You’re gonna just have to satisfy yourself with the porn channel._

 _Now did I say I wanted you to do anything but lie there and look hot and sexy while I suck on every part of your body? And it all worked out, didn’t it? And there’s not some big secret hanging between us and your family. I mean, seriously, we needed to tell your dad we’re gay._

_It’s the wings-thing I didn’t want him knowing. Doofus._ Sam shuddered, his fingers digging into the bedding when he felt Castiel drag his wet tongue over him. _I dunno... I think this counts as sex._ His eyelids felt heavy and dropped closed.

“Oh. Okay. I’ll stop,” Castiel said, sitting up and stretching, making his wings visible as he opened them wide. “Don’t mind me. Just going to exercise my wings a bit.” He yawned. “Then get to bed early.”

Feeling the breeze, Sam opened his eyes and was greeted with that beautiful sight. “You’re not gonna dance for me, are you?” He licked his lips. 

“Dance for you? Nooooo, I don’t dance. You know that. You’ve never gotten me out on the dance floor and taught me.” Castiel began to move in a series of stretches, humming under his breath, acting as if he didn’t see Sam watching every curl of his wings, or when he bent over, wiggling his ass in time to the music he was humming.

“You know, these pants are kind of binding,” he mused and turned to face Sam though he completely ignored him. He played with the button a half dozen times, almost undoing it but letting it slip through his fingers. “Maybe if I unzip them first,” he murmured, continuing to hum and slowly working his zipper down even as he beat his wings a little faster, enough to rise off the floor just a bit, only to settle right back down. 

He reached in through the zippered opening, through his undershorts and pulled out just the tip of his cock, making sure Sam saw it as he gave a soft moan. “That’s better, much better,” he said, nodding, arching back and stretching, his cock pushing its way out of the opening a little more.

Slowly, Sam pushed himself up to a sitting position. Mesmerized, he tracked Castiel’s movements, his eyes constantly darting from his wings, to his lips, to his hands and to his pink flushed tip peeping out just above his shorts.

His heart raced. His blood rushed hotly through his veins, thundering in his ears. “You... you never asked me to teach you,” Sam croaked, his mouth suddenly very dry. He scooted forward, moving to the edge of the bed, letting his legs hang down to the floor. His cock was so damned hard from pressing relentlessly against his zipper. He moved his hand over it. “Turn around.”

“You said I was a romantic. Don’t romantics like to dance with their lovers? I bet the tango would be fun,” Castiel said, slowly straightening back up. His hips swished back and forth and he shuffled around so his back was to Sam. He brought his wings together, practically bracketing Sam, then unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down to the point he was almost mooning Sam. “Is that what you had in mind?”

Sliding completely off the bed, Sam took a few long steps and closed his arms around Castiel’s waist, pressing against him and moving his hips to the same rhythm, grinding against him. “Definitely,” he answered in Cas’ ear, his hand wandering down to palm Castiel’s cock over his shorts. He moved his thumb over Castiel’s exposed tip and whispered, “I think this is called ‘dirty dancing.’” 

“I saw that movie. There was no nudity in it,” Castiel said, leaning back against Sam contentedly, keeping up his humming. Twisting his head he kissed Sam’s cheek. _Kiss me, Sam,_ Castiel begged as he ground back harder against him. 

A red hot current of pleasure had Sam pulling Castiel against him harder as he brought his mouth down over Castiel’s. As soon as their lips met, he hungrily pushed his tongue inside the satin heat of Cas’ mouth and started a whole other dance. 

Dipping his hand under Castiel’s waistband, he closed his fingers around his hard dick and started to stroke and squeeze him, a moan slipping from his lips when he felt Cas’ wings flutter, practically sheathing him. 

_Love you,_ Castiel said as he moaned into Sam’s mouth, thrusting his hard cock into Sam’s hand over and over. Every time he was pulling back, his ass ground back into Sam, his pants falling lower and lower until they were around his ankles. 

_How come you only tell me that when I’ve got you in my hand?_ Sam asked, squeezing a little harder and swallowing Castiel’s moan. _Wish my pants were off. It would only be a small miracle..._ Grinding harder against Castiel, Sam sucked his tongue into his mouth.

 _I do not! Do I?_ Castiel telepathed, his words sounding almost breathless. _I can...try_ Castiel said, and focused as best he could on Sam’s pants being removed. Just like that, Sam’s pants were gone, as were his undershorts. And Castiel’s too. _Oops. They’re either in your dad’s room or on the surface of Moon, I’m not sure which._

When Sam’s cock suddenly slipped into the cleft of his ass, when he felt its moist tip slide over his hole, Castiel’s body shuddered and trembled. It seemed to drive him harder and harder and soon his dark wings were beating.

When Castiel’s ass cheeks clenched around him, a guttural sound broke from Sam. His fingers bit into Castiel’s flesh as he struggled to process the intense feelings washing over him, inflamed by the beating of Castiel’s wings and the way he kept pushing back, making the head of Sam’s cock brush repeatedly against his hole. Making Sam want to push a little harder. He knew... he sensed Castiel wanted it too. _I... It’s not like in porn. Read about it. There’s... you have to do stuff... so it doesn’t hurt and..._

 _I’m ready to..._ Castiel cried out. “Sam!” His balls clenched hard, the repeated pressure against his hole having pushed him over the edge. “Come with me,” he begged as his wings began beating harder and harder until he felt his feet barely touching the floor.

“How can I not?” Sam asked through clenched teeth, throwing his head back, taking three strokes of Castiel’s wings brushing over him before his orgasm slammed into him. “Nghhh... Castiel!” he practically shouted, grinding against him harder as he came, his spunk shooting out and dribbling down Cas’ crack. 

The warm heat coating his palm had him gliding his hand over Castiel’s dick with a much lighter touch now, but unwilling for this to end just yet. _I told you no sex. Bad angel. We’re having no sex tomorrow, too._ He kissed the side of Castiel’s neck and then his shoulder, tasting salt off his damp skin. 

_Remind me not to let you have a dog. Your discipline sucks. And tomorrow...maybe we need to get the stuff to...you know. Prepare._ He practically collapsed against Sam, folding his wings in but not hiding them. His eyes were half-closed as he enjoyed the gentle nuzzling of Sam’s mouth and the light, tender strokes on his hypersensitive cock, strokes that made him twitch and moan now and again.

“Uh huh. You should ask Dean about going to the store with us for supplies. He handled the strip show well.” Smiling against Castiel’s flesh, Sam started to walk back toward the bed, without allowing any space between them. _He’ll probably find a silver lining... like condom shelves... best place to meet women,”_ Sam predicted.

Castiel began laughing, knowing Sam was probably right.


	11. Chapter 11

EPILOGUE

[Seven years later]

Castiel opened the door with a touch instead of digging out his keys. He was tired, but good tired. Although he worked as a paramedic for the City of Palo-Alto, he also did search and rescue work in the mountains. He’d thought about becoming a physician, but by the time people saw doctors, usually medical files and conditions already existed. If Castiel arrived on the scene of an accident or something, he could help heal people enough that they didn’t necessarily die. He couldn’t save them all, of course. And sometimes, it was just plain obvious their injuries were fatal. But he did manage to do things like heal broken bones leaving them merely bruised, or minimizing the damage to lacerated organs. If he found someone with hidden illnesses, he could often nudge those along into remission or even take them away. Sometimes all he could do was just make certain the doctors spotted the illness so they could start treating it. He knew if it was the person’s time, the reapers would find a way to take them, so he didn’t overly worry about messing with Fate.

Search and rescue was much the same. If the person was alive and lost in the wilderness, Castiel was known to have a knack for finding them. Sometimes he was waved off by a reaper and reluctantly avoided the area for a while.

“Bonesy!” Castiel called, surprised the Labrador/shepherd mix wasn’t at the door to meet him, his huge tail wagging. After dumping his gear in the laundry room, he walked into the kitchen and saw the note Sam had written and practically smacked himself in the head. That was why Bonesy wasn’t there. Opening the fridge, Castiel snagged a piece of cold pizza. He smiled when he felt Sam’s presence growing closer and closer until he heard their front door open.

“Hey, sexy, I’m in the kitchen. Did I scare you, thinking I wouldn’t make it back in time for the flight?” Castiel called out as he filled a glass of water.

“You wouldn’t miss _this_ flight.” Dropping his keys on the table next to the door, Sam walked into the kitchen and kissed Castiel, but ducked away when Cas would have put an arm around him. “I have to close our suitcases. And where the hell’s Dean? He said he was getting here hours ago. I finally had to take the dog in or we’d cut it too close. Left the keys under the mat for him.”

He started heading for the bedroom and stopped at the hallway door. “You gonna change? I put some clothes out for you.”

“No, I thought I’d go just like this, all stinky and smelly from days out hunting for that family.” He followed after Sam and seeing the clothes he gave a slight wave of his hand and he was clean, freshly shaved, and dressed in the jeans, t-shirt, and cowboy boots that Sam had put out for him. “You don’t mind if I cheat, do you?”

Sam smiled, then he leaned in and kissed Castiel again. This time giving him a longer kiss. _Angel-clean smell. Mmm._

Castiel chuckled and grabbed Sam’s ass, squeezing it firmly. He brought his wings out and wrapped them around Sam, in part because he sensed Dean coming into the building.

Dean opened the door. “Sammy? Cas?” Dean called out as he stepped into the living room. Looking down the hall he saw Castiel’s wings and groaned. “C’mon guys! Do you have to make out every time I walk through the door? I swear you two are like rabbits! And Cas, is it my imagination or are your wings getting...whiter?”

Castiel smiled against Sam’s lips. “They are. Seems the more my Grace heals, and the more I use my abilities, the more dark feather I lose. Black goes to dark gray to light gray to white.” He gave Sam’s ass a final squeeze before releasing him and putting his wings away, so Sam was visible again.

“And we’re not making out. I’m just... ah... closing up our bags.” Zipping up the suitcase he tossed the duffel bag to Castiel. Sam grabbed their tickets. “If he tries to escape... you know what to do.”

Moving out of the bedroom, he dropped the suitcase in the living room and went to give Dean a hug. “You’re late, bro,” he said, slapping Dean on the back. 

“Hey, you know how hunts are. You’re lucky I made it. I had to dig up three different graves in three different cemeteries. It sucked.” He gave Sam a brief hug. “You’re looking good, both of you--and why would I try to escape? And where’s the Boner dog? And why do you have suitcases?” Dean looked between the two, getting an uneasy feeling in his gut at the way they were grinning. “What are you two up to?”

“We’re going on vacation. You too, bro. Dad’s not due to get here for a week, so... yeah. We saved up and it’s on Castiel’s growing ‘to see’ list.” Grinning, he headed to the door. “Bring your stuff. And if you don’t have swim trunks, you can get a pair when we get there.”

“Swimming? Beaches? Where we headed? Santa Barbara? L.A.? San Diego?” Dean asked, following Sam and Cas out. He headed to his car and grabbed a duffel with freshly washed clothes. “I should probably get some new trunks. Mine are a little ragged.”

Castiel grinned at Sam. “You’re driving. I’ve got all my rescue crap in the Jeep.”

Giving a nod, Sam looked down at his keys, then pressed the button on the remote attached to them. A double beep sounded, and the trunk of his dodge charger popped open. _Here comes the douchemobile jokes,_ he predicted, having bought the car a couple months ago.

Dumping his stuff inside, he waited for the others to do the same. 

Dean looked at the car then back at Sam. “Seriously? This is yours?” He tossed his duffel in the trunk, then looked it over. “Well, at least you got a muscle car. You’re not _completely_ without taste.” Dean climbed in the back. “How long we gonna be on the road? We should stop and get me some food. And maybe a Coke and chips.”

 _He will never trust you again,_ Castiel told Sam with a laugh.

“Yeah, we’ll make sure you don’t run low on the health snacks.” Sam rolled his eyes. Not that he was a health freak himself, but anyone would be in comparison to Dean. “We should get to our destination in oh... about eight hours. You must be tired from grave digging, you can sleep all the way,” he said.

He was driving pretty fast and there was no traffic. It would be good though, if he kept Dean too busy to notice the airport signs that would be coming up pretty fast. “So what’s this case Dad’s wanting to talk to us about? Must be pretty big if he’s making plans to be in the area for at least a month.”

“Beats me,” Dean said and yawned. “Eight hours? Yeah, sleeping sounds good, but I wanna get caught up with you two. Didn’t you just take your oral exam to officially start your PhD? How did it go? Is that loco prof going to keep you on as his research assistant? Inquiring minds want to know. Cause you suck at making phone calls and sending emails.”

“Hey, I’m a good research assistant. And he’s only a little … loco. Or the school seems to think so with his talk of demons. Damn, the guy’s got some library.” Bobby had hooked Sam up with the professor who was a big reference source for the hunting community. 

Checking the mirrors, Sam changed lanes and prepared to exit. “We’re doing shots on the beach tonight. Cas has to drink two each time we take a hit. He’s an expensive date,” Sam grinned, looking over at Cas.

“I can’t help it takes a lot of alcohol to affect me. I blame it on the wings. Larger body mass. Even if I am with Gigantor,” Castiel said, resting his hand on Sam’s thigh and giving a light squeeze. “I can’t wait to see it. It’s going to be beautiful, I’m certain.”

“It’s gonna be awesome.” As he got into the lane that went straight into the San Francisco airport, Sam glanced in the rear view mirror at his brother. “We could start the shots before we take off.”

“Take off?” Dean said, then realized they were headed to an airport. “Oh, no. Not just no. Hell, no. I don’t fly. You know I don’t fly,” Dean said, shaking his head. “Not unless it’s the fate of the world or something, and even then, I’d have to think about it. Sammy, come on. Really?”

“Dean, you fight demons... dude, it’s just a short plane ride. You’ll be fine, you can hold Castiel’s hand since there’s no risk of breaking it. Or at least he can quickly fix it.” Sam didn’t slow down at all, not until he had to in order to get into the parking lot. “Just think … Hawai’i... beaches... girls... oh, and leis,” he added, grinning.

“Sam says you’re afraid the plane will crash,” Castiel said. “Well, I can fly, so if the plane were to have problems, we’ll be okay. I could also make you fall asleep once we’re on board. I’ll just read you Sam’s last research paper. You’ll fall asleep like that,” he said snapping his fingers, grinning at his lover.

“Funny,” Sam huffed. _No sex for you tonight._

“Hawai’i...beaches...women...Hawai’i,” Dean muttered. He took a deep breath. “Okay. But Dudes, if we crash, I am so going to haunt even your ghosts. Got it? And oh yeah, we’re starting the shots as soon as we get in there.”

“The best part?” Castiel said. “We’re flying first class. It’s going to be awesome!”

“I thought the best part was that we’re joining the mile high club.” Pulling into a parking stall, Sam looked over at Castiel. “Oh yeah... we’re already members.” 

“TMI, Dudes,” Dean said. “Well...come on. Put me out of my misery or get me drunk enough that I don’t care. I can’t believe I’m willingly getting on a plane and it’s not even to kill some evil mo’fo’. All I have to add is this better be worth it. I better meet some really, really, hot chicks.” He gave both Castiel and Sam a glare.

“If you don’t, we can always do a threesome,” Castiel said as he got out of the car, laughing to himself.

Sam looked at Dean for a fraction of a second and then got out and pointed at Castiel over the roof of the car. “We are _not_ having a threesome,” he said, with Dean speaking almost the same words at the same time.

Castiel broke into laughter. “You two should’a been twins.” Castiel’s eyes glazed over. “Mmmm, two Sams.....”

“You two are worse horn dogs than I am,” Dean said, grabbing his pack from the trunk and heading for the terminal.

Castiel looked at Sam. “We could always reconfirm our mile high club membership,” he said, smiling and taking his hand, while grabbing the duffel with his other hand.

“You’re forgetting... we’re not having sex,” Sam answered, without much conviction. Already, he was wondering how they were going to go about doing that. “And you’d better not be imagining twin porn,” he added, for Dean’s benefit. _No, really. You better not._

 _Sure I can. You can help. Then I’ll help you imagine two of me making love to you. Oooh, that means we’ve got to have sex four times in the airplane, to accommodate all the twins._ Seeing Sam’s face Castiel began laughing again as he ran toward the terminal, pulling Sam along with him.

THE END


End file.
